Out of Egypt: Return of the Black Queen
by Sybl Angelkat
Summary: There is another sister that Iracebeth and Mirana were too young to remember. She returns to Underland right around the same time that Alice does. She has no memory of her heritage, but that works for Stayne's plans. Stayne/OC
1. Chapter 1

_I like Chapel…it's the one place I can go where they don't poke me with needles or demand that I talk about why I don't talk. God can hear my thoughts and I can talk to Him and not get in trouble that way…_

_ Today, the pastor talked about the people who believed in God getting out of Egypt and passing into the desert before reaching the promised land. I'm wondering if this place is my Egypt…_

Aurora was always disappointed when Sunday service was over. It meant that her two hours of peace were over. She always lingered in the sun-filled room because it was the only place in the whole hospital that didn't feel like a hospital. She was ushered out by an impatient orderly. It was back to the chaos, back to the everyday and the ordinary. She watched the doors close and wished she could believe in the impossible everywhere else as well.

_If God and Jesus are real and you can't be thrown in here for believing in them, why can't I believe in fairy-tales?_

A group session was about to start. She was made to go into the room where the chairs were set up in a circular fashion. As usual, she didn't talk. As usual, she was scolded for not talking. Her individual session consisted of being insulted by her psychiatrist. She really made him angry by turning her chair so that her back was to him. Moments later, she found herself in a solitary confinement room.

_Oh well…at least nobody will bother me here,_ she thought, sitting down on what passed for a bed.

Puzzled, she felt something hard under her leg and held up a small glass bottle. There was a tag on it that read "Drink Me".

_What is this thing? And how did it get in here?_

Puzzled, she took a swallow. The bitter taste almost made her sick and she lurched forward when her stomach started to cringe. She had the awful feeling of falling; she was surprised when she finally hit the floor. Her hospital uniform had enlarged so much that it was like a tent.

She crawled out from under it and shivered; she had only a pair of generic white panties to her name now that her shirt and pants didn't fit. The whole world seemed huge. She noticed the narrow slot at the bottom of the door.

_I wonder if I can fit through there now…_

She knelt down and crawled under it. With a little bit of a tug, she was free of the isolation room. A wild idea occurred to her; maybe she could escape after all this time. Her heart began to pound; but where would she go and what would she do? Shrugging, she decided that it didn't matter. A janitor was rolling a cart by. She decided to hitch a ride.

While she was there, she noticed a variety of cleaning rags. Tucking one around her like a towel, she secured it as best as she could so that it would stay in place. It was a long ride and they didn't even get close to a door for what seemed like an eternity. While the automatic doors were open, she dashed through them. Open air beckoned to her.

She fell through a hole about two seconds later. The last thing she remembered was falling headlong through the darkness before she passed out.

…..

Getting into that hospital had been absolute hell. Getting in there with a vial of Pishsalver had been even harder, he recalled. He'd had to drink about half the contents to get it in there in the first place. Thankfully, she really was insane enough to drink it herself. Her getting out by herself had been an added bonus…though the rag-dress didn't do her much justice, he thought. After that, she'd toppled right down the hole.

Maybe madness wasn't all bad.

Thankfully, getting back to his original size was easy. After he'd chewed the corner off of one of the cakes, he'd broken off a piece and stuffed a little bit of the Upelkuchen in her mouth as well and dragged her through the door. After that, she was on her own.

Her unnamed hero looked at her one last time before disappearing never to be seen again. His part in the Oraculum was done…now, it was up to either Tarrant Hightopp or Ilosovic Stayne to find her. The one last thing he did was put her into a new hospital uniform. It would have to do for now.

….

Ilosovic Stayne had just finished studying the Oraculum and sent out both of the hounds to hunt for the girls. One of them was Alice, the one who was supposed to kill the Jabberwocky and bring the White Queen back to power. The other one, the one that no one had seemed to notice, was the Black Queen. The Black Queen was the lost sister of Mirana and Iracebeth. The Black Queen was supposed to take over Iracebeth's throne and help the White Queen rule.

If Iracebeth hadn't been yelling so much about her stupid tarts and yelling about Alice, she might have noticed that she'd have a replacement. Stayne himself was the only one who had noticed—he couldn't complain.

But the sooner he nipped this problem in the bud, the better. A third queen would complicate things considerably. His horse trotted through the woods with the playing card guards clanking along beside him. They all jumped when they heard a horrendous shriek. He'd know that sound anywhere…

It was a Jubjub bird. He drew his sword as they prepared to deal with the nasty creature. What they weren't prepared for was what the bird was trying to catch.

A girl in a gray uniform was running towards the woods where she would be better protected. Her shirt had almost been torn to ribbons and bloody gashes shone on her back. She was trying to escape the bird and seemed to be tiring out. He saw the raven curls and commanded his soldiers to dispatch the bird. Since birds don't eat metal, they drove it away fairly quickly. He approached the fallen girl.

She was turning pale from blood loss. He lifted her weight of one-hundred-ninety-six pounds as if she weighed nothing and slung her over the horse's back. They had found the Black Queen.

A plan was formulating in his mind as they raced back to the castle. If he could keep her identity a secret from Iracebeth, maybe she'd return the favor and let him have some of the resulting power from Iracebeth being defeated. The girl had a look of madness about her, but it wasn't the same scary power-hungry madness as Iracebeth. It was a sad, haunted look. Maybe their subjects would live longer under her rule…

He smuggled her into the castle under the cover of darkness and bribed the doctor not to tell anyone. Then, he examined the Oraculum again. What else could he work to his advantage?

He saw her holding a paintbrush. So…she was an artist. Her false identity began to form in his mind. She could be a royal artist (if her work was half as good as the Oraculum portrayed it). Yes…appealing to Iracebeth's vanity would be the easiest way to keep her alive. Now, it was just a matter of finding Alice…


	2. Chapter 2

After no luck on finding Alice that night, Stayne stalked towards the hospital wing to see if the other girl was awake yet. What he found was absolute chaos. The doctor was nursing a bleeding nose and the dark-haired girl was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" Stayne demanded.

"Under there," the doctor said, "I wouldn't go over there if I were you."

His voice was slightly muffled from the rag he held over his nostrils. He pointed to a bed in the corner of the room.

Stayne raised an eyebrow.

"Am I to believe that she really did that to you?"

The doctor nodded.

"She's quite strong…stronger than I expected. The Overland drugs must be wearing off. When she woke, she seemed rather disoriented and frightened out of her wits. I went to change her dressings and she struck me and ran off. And that scream…I never heard such a frightening sound in my life. A banshee would have scared me less."

Stayne's cold gray eye locked on the bed. In the shadowy darkness, he could just make out the outline of the girl's cowering form. Her eyes were wild and dark. He knew madness when he saw it; her face was haunted with it.

"Iracebeth nearly discovered her here," the doctor continued, "I don't think she'll even be safe here much longer. I don't know how to get her to understand that I'm trying to help her."

When Stayne came closer, the girl retreated further under the bed. He wondered how someone of her size could curl herself up to fit in such a small space.

"Doctor Hathaway, how have we been dealing with Iracebeth these past ten years?" he asked. His voice was condescending as though he were speaking to an ignorant child.

"We've given her everything she wants," Dr. Hathaway responded.

"Exactly."

Stayne's voice was cold, calculating. Dr. Hathaway frowned…usually Stayne had some sort of manipulation in mind when he spoke like that.

"I've tried leaving food out for her, but it hasn't worked," he told him.

Of course…it was never that easy. Stayne knew of prisoners who had gone willingly without food or water for days in order to keep from selling someone they loved out. He thought about the Oraculum as he paced back and forth in front of the mad girl's hiding place.

"I'll be back."

He strode across the room. The dark eyes under the bed watched the door rattle with his passing and she shuddered involuntarily.

"I don't know what you've been through or whether you even know Ilosovic Stayne," Dr. Hathaway told the girl, "but you'd be wise not to cross him. He's a dangerous man…even more so than Iracebeth, I've heard."

He could feel her studying him even though he wasn't looking at her.

After studying the Oraculum, Stayne remembered that the Black Queen was an artist. No artist that he knew of could resist drawing something…after retrieving an abandoned sketchbook and a pencil from the last royal artist's chambers, he returned to the hospital wing.

_It's not like he'll need it where he's gone,_ he thought darkly. Iracebeth had ordered his execution last week after he'd drawn a bad cartoon of her as a joke. She'd discovered it and wasn't at all amused by his portrayal of her burning in Hell.

The sketchbook was of very high quality with a leather cover. He doubted that she'd seen anything this nice in her world. After tearing out a few of the old unfinished drawings, he walked back into the hospital wing. The girl hadn't moved from her hiding spot under the bed. Using the same quiet voice he'd used to placate Iracebeth's dangerous moods, he settled into a nearby chair and pretended to ignored the girl:

"I haven't the slightest idea where our guest has gone," he said to Dr. Hathaway, "but I'd heard she was an artist."

He thumbed through the crisp white pages.

"I have no use for a book like this, but I thought she might find a use for it."

He placed the book on the edge of the bed. When the girl's pale hand snaked out to take it, he moved it over to where it was just out of her reach. Her fingers blindly fumbled over the covers, trying to find it. He had to stifle a laugh. She glared at him from under the bed like a petulant child.

"Maybe if you would stop acting like an animal and come out, I would let go of it," he commented.

Dr. Hathaway ventured closer with the armful of clean bandages. Aurora moved to bolt away from him, but Stayne's muscular arms snared her. She gave him a Look. He was surprised at the amount of resistance she was putting up. He forced her down on the bed and held her there while Dr. Hathaway cleaned out her wounds and put the clean bandages on. She gave him a venomous look when he finally pulled her back into a sitting position.

"STAYNE!" the shrill voice yelled, echoing through the castle.

Stayne sighed irritably just as Iracebeth stormed through the doors.

"Where have you been! I've been calling you and—"

She pointed. Stayne turned to look and had to stifle his surprised expression. Sitting on the bed was the girl. For a moment, there was absolutely no sound except for the pencil scratching against paper.

"Who is this?" Iracebeth demanded.

Without missing a beat, Stayne replied:

"She is a surprise, Your Majesty. I found another royal artist for you since the other one wasn't up to your standards."

Iracebeth's head tilted as though considering his story. Her heavily made up eyes darted from Stayne to the girl.

"And she is? You there, girl! Draw me!"

For one nerve-wracking moment, he waited for all Hell to break loose. But nothing happened. The girl turned the page in the book. As Stayne and Dr. Hathaway leaned over her shoulders to look, an outline of Iracebeth rapidly appeared. Within a few minutes, a very lifelike sketch filled the page. She had done in minutes what it took most of the previous artists days to finish.

"What's your name?" Iracebeth asked.

The girl said nothing.

"She is mute, Your Majesty. She hasn't said a word since she arrived. I think she's a little mad," Stayne said quietly.

Iracebeth rolled her eyes.

"What else is new?"

The girl scribbled something on the first page and held it up. In big capital letters, she had written "AURORA".

"Aurora…well, at least we know what to call you. You start tomorrow," Iracebeth said dismissively, walking out.

Though Aurora was no psychiatrist, she had learned to read people. The tension drained out of Stayne's shoulders when Iracebeth had gone. He turned to face her. She regarded him with the same coldness.

"You just saved your own life," he told her, "you don't know how fortunate you are."

She looked at him, then looked at the door. Though she never made a sound, her expression spoke volumes. He resisted the urge to injure her. The look had said: _Okay, you're twice her size and you take orders from her…something's wrong with this picture._

"Is she well enough to leave the hospital?" Stayne asked the doctor.

"As long as she comes back for dressing changes once a day," Dr. Hathaway answered.

"Let's go."

Stayne took hold of her wrist and dragged her towards the door. She resisted him then, too, but his grip was too strong. She fought him all the way towards the door. In a very childlike gesture, she went limp and refused to move.

"Have it your way," he said with a shrug. The irritation grew on the inside, but he couldn't let her see it. He lifted her onto his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes and he carried her up the stairs. When she fought him then, he turned her over so that her butt was sticking up in the air. Her small fists beat at him in an attempt to dislodge his grip, but she only struck armor. She may as well have been hitting him with a pillow. One arm pinned her kicking legs down and he chuckled at her. Just to scare her, he bounced her as if he'd intended to drop her. She froze for a moment.

"I'd say your temper rivals the queen's," he said, amused, "and you don't scream like a Jub-jub bird. I'd much rather deal with you."

They had reached her room and he put her down. She glared at him and straightened her nightgown.

"Enjoy your life while you still have one," he said with a smirk. He closed the door and locked it behind him.

Aurora stood and stared at the door, her dark eyes full of fury. How _dare_ he?

She sighed and ventured a look at her new prison. Grudgingly, she had to admit that it wasn't so bad. The room was plainly furnished, but it had actual furniture. There was a bed that could have fit at least two of her, a dresser, a mirror, and two big windows. They were open and the red and white sheer fabric floated gently on the breeze. Another door led to a small bathroom—she couldn't remember ever having that luxury. She gazed appreciatively at the big clawfoot tub.

She returned to the bedroom part. In one corner was an easel and an arsenal of brushes and paints. Canvases of all sizes lined the wall. She began to wonder who had lived here before her—the space appeared to only have been vacant recently. In fact, the air still smelled of paint.

She decided to venture a glance at what kind of view she had and she instantly wished she hadn't. She looked down and her heart nearly stopped.

At first, she mistook the grayish objects in the moat for rocks. Most rocks that she knew of didn't float. Upon staring at them for a moment, she realized in horror that they were heads. The sun struck the water just right and the reddish tint of it made her stomach twist. She staggered backward as the roaring in her ears increased.

_Oh, my God…it's real…I'm not dreaming this time…_

Stayne opened the door again just as Aurora hit the floor in a dead faint.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Aurora a couple of hours to revive. When she woke up, she was pale and shaky. She realized that she was laying on the bed instead of the place she'd fallen. A servant was bringing things in. She noticed that Aurora was awake and ventured closer to the bed.

"Easy, dear, you've taken a nasty bump on the head—I'm glad to see you're awake."

The lady was older, Aurora noticed, and had a very grandmotherly appearance. She had salt-and-pepper hair and pale green eyes. She had probably been very pretty when she was younger.

"I pity you for being brought to this place," the servant lady continued, "I almost wish that the Knave hadn't noticed you."

After a moment, she chuckled quietly.

"Oh, dear, excuse my lack of manners. My name is Martha."

She extended a hand to Aurora. Aurora shook it, never once saying a word.

"I hear you don't talk much. I think it might work to your favor—the ladies of the court are terrible gossips. I wouldn't talk around them if I were you…anything you say can be misquoted and used against you."

Aurora nodded.

"I brought you some dinner since Ilosovic said you were feeling under the weather. I didn't think you'd feel much like being around a multitude of people. If you'll just stand up for a moment, I can take your dress measurements. I'm sure you don't want to be walking around in that ratty old nightgown."

Aurora stood up and Martha retrieved a tape measure. She wrote down the measurements quickly.

"The seamstress will probably have something for you to wear by tomorrow. Do you know what size shoe you wear?"

Aurora shrugged. Martha had her stand on a piece of paper so that she could draw an outline of her feet.

"There. I imagine you'd look lovely in red or royal blue…or perhaps a minty green. It would bring out that wonderful raven hair of yours…mine used to be that color when I was your age. I'm absolutely envious of your curls. If I didn't know better, I'd say that Stayne picked you up for your pretty face!"

Aurora frowned.

_I hope not._

Martha laughed.

"I know what you're thinking, dear, but he isn't as bad as he seems. Iracebeth's made him half-crazy these last ten years. If he would settle down with the right girl, that might thaw the ice around him a bit. He's a looker now, but he used to be even more handsome before he lost his eye."

Aurora made a "what happened?" gesture with her palms facing out.

"I'm not clear on the details," Martha answered, "but I believe he was attacked by a Jub-jub bird whilst trying to defend the poor king. Iracebeth swears it was that nasty bird that killed the king, but the slice was too clean. Oh, I'm sorry, dear! My mouth runs away with me! I'll put you off your dinner."

Aurora shook her head and picked up her fork. She took a big bite to show Martha that she wasn't squeamish. She didn't notice what she was eating and wasn't hungry, but she wanted Martha to keep talking. The more she knew about this strange place, the better off she was.

"All right, dear, if you insist."

Martha leaned in closer until Aurora could feel her breath in her ear.

"Rumor has it that she killed King Gabriel herself…I don't think Ilosovic did it contrary to the rumors. He loved Gabriel as if he were his own brother. He was devastated when Gabriel died. Every since, poor Ilosovic has been stuck doing her bidding. She pretends that he's her beau, but I think he hates her, just between you and I."

_Hmmm…_The wheels were spinning in Aurora's head.

"The queen thinks you're absolutely crazy," Martha said, "mad as a hatter. But I think that works for you. She's rather fond of people that she thinks are mad…she believes she can control them. But I know better…I can see it in your eyes."

Aurora's dark eyes locked on hers, probing. She was trying to decide whether to put Martha in the trusted or untrusted column that she kept filed away in her memory.

"Don't worry…I won't tell a soul," Martha told her, "I think that Ilosovic has big plans for you. He wouldn't have gone to such pains to save you from that bird if he didn't."

_Bird?_ Aurora mouthed.

"Yes, dear! Don't you remember? He saved your life from the Jub-jub bird. After it scratched you, he brought you straight here. You almost died of blood loss. He told the doctor to take good care of you."

Aurora's lips pressed together as she digested that. Stayne did not seem to be the type to save anyone…especially not selflessly. She could only speculate what it was that he wanted her for. She knew that she was going to be a pawn sooner or later and she didn't like it. The anger began to blaze in her pale cheeks and color them dark red as if a flame dwelled there.

"Oh, dear…have I upset you? I'm sorry…it's just been a very long time since I've seen him this way. He used to be like a son to me and now he hardly ever speaks to me…" Martha sighed, "…everything has changed. Iracebeth has got to go…but you didn't hear that from me, understand?"

Aurora nodded. Beggars couldn't be choosers and she needed at least one friend in this place.

"If you want, I'll show you around the castle after you have something decent to wear."

Aurora nodded.

"I'll be back."

Martha took the tray out of her lap and carried it away. Aurora watched her go and began to process the wealth of information she'd acquired.

So…Iracebeth had ruled for ten years, if not more. Her husband had died under suspicious circumstances. Ilosovic Stayne worked as Captain of the Guards (a.k.a. "Knave of Hearts"), but he didn't like Iracebeth. She suspected that he was in it for the power. He had rescued her from the Jub-jub bird and brought her here. He'd supported the illusion that she was crazy and couldn't speak and gotten her a job as a royal artist. The only conclusion that she could come to was that he knew something about her that Iracebeth didn't and he was planning to use it to his advantage. She reclined back on the bed and closed her eyes. The dreams that she normally tamped down into a safe place were finally allowed to surface.

_I dreamed of falling down a hole…and there was a blue bird and a rabbit named McTwisp and two boys named Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. There was also a man named Tarrant who had orange hair, a top hat, and eyes that changed color…there was a girl who sort of looked like Iracebeth and another girl who had white hair…and a blue caterpillar with a nasty attitude…and a cat that could smile and vanish into thin air. _

She jolted out of her reverie when a frightening possibility jumped out at her.

_That's why I had so much trouble with them! That's why they thought I was insane! Those dreams were real! They were memories! I must have left when I was very young…I've had them since I can remember!_

_ But who are all these people?_

_ Who am I, for that matter?_

She retrieved the book that Stayne had bribed her with and began to draw feverishly. A montage of images appeared on the page, one of which was a dark-haired boy who had silver-gray eyes. She suspected that was what he looked like as a child…for some reason, it made her heart ache. He barely resembled that boy anymore…time had etched its journey into his skin and stolen his innocence. She couldn't remember the events that had brought them together as children no matter how she strained her memory—it was an unfortunate side-effect of having been told that he wasn't real too many times.

He wasn't the only one whose memory was fuzzy in her mind. The red-haired girl, the white-haired girl, the orange-haired young man, and the others were familiar and yet strangers at the same time. The accursed psychiatrists had created a wall between her and her mind…damn them! She lay the book down and closed her eyes. Maybe some sleep would cause the memories to resurface from her exhausted mind.


	4. Chapter 4

It felt strange to be dressed in actual clothes and to have the comfortable ballet-style flats instead of the regulation uniform. Martha had brought Aurora a black dress that had white and red trim. The neckline was high, but came to a flattering V in the front without exposing too much. Aurora barely recognized herself in the mirror.

She followed Martha through the castle before breakfast and listened intently to the older woman's chatter.

"This is the west wing…most of it's servant quarters," Martha said, "the east wing is where Iracebeth and most of her cronies live. And, of course, Ilosovic Stayne. Out that way are the rose gardens…beautiful place. Down here is the dining room, and off that way is the throne room. We have a ballroom over that way where Iracebeth throws her parties and a music room next to it…hardly anyone ever goes in there anymore."

The clock chimed nine o'clock.

"Goodness, we'll be late for breakfast! This way to the kitchen!"

All the servants ate in the kitchen that weren't serving the meals. Aurora didn't mind; she rather enjoyed the chaos and the brightness. The smells of good food wafted up from the stoves and ovens and she was overjoyed to catch the scent of coffee. She helped herself to a big mug. It had been ages since she'd tasted coffee. After taking a big swig, she realized just how hungry she really was.

The other servants were talking, but Aurora just ate. She devoured a large pile of scrambled eggs and countless pieces of bacon and toast. She had just finished seconds on everything when a harassed-looking male servant skittered through the door. He looked like a frightened dog trying to run across a freshly waxed floor.

"The queen wants you, Ma'am," he stammered. Aurora was going to take her dishes to the sink, but Martha's hand stopped her.

"Leave it," she told her, "I'll take care of it. Go see Iracebeth before she starts screaming."

Aurora picked up her tan messenger bag and followed the other servant. Judging by the other servants lugging dishes back to the kitchen, the royals had just finished eating as well.

_How is it that she can still look down her nose at me when she's sitting and I'm standing?_ Aurora wondered.

"There you are! I would like to get started now," Iracebeth told her, "we'll see what kind of painter you really are."

Aurora nodded, trying not to bristle at her implying that she might not be good enough. Years of keeping a "poker face" had made her a very good actress.

"Come on, then."

At first, Iracebeth wanted the painting to be done in the throne room. Aurora shook her head.

"Is she trying to refuse?" Iracebeth asked Stayne menacingly.

Aurora pointed. Stayne studied her closely for a moment as she made a series of gestures.

"What is she doing?" Iracebeth demanded impatiently.

"I think she's trying to tell you that the light is better outside," Stayne translated.

Aurora nodded.

"Oh."

Aurora bit back a burst of laughter. It was like watching a parent calmly explain a misunderstanding to a toddler who'd gotten upset over nothing. This time, Aurora led the way outside to the rose garden. She examined the layout and considered lighting. As she began to compose the image in her mind, artistic thoughts trumped any fury or resentment she felt towards the Red Queen. The dark, hard shadows of the throne room had a tendency to age Iracebeth and make her look threatening. The soft, golden natural light would soften her hard features and flatter her much more. She gestured to a bench near one of the rosebushes.

A few minutes later, Iracebeth was situated on the bench. She reclined on a pile of pillows that would make a few hours of sitting on stone much more bearable. Aurora arranged her into a much more flattering pose, one that would accent her femininity and give her a slightly more flirtatious air. Borrowing a pair of shears from a gardener, Aurora cut a few roses and had him skin the thorns off of the stems. She arranged a bouquet of them and gave them to Iracebeth to hold. Then, she took out her supplies and got to work.

Stayne couldn't help but be impressed. He watched as her eyes would narrow in concentration as she mixed a color or carefully shade in an area. She was bringing things out in Iracebeth that he hadn't ever noticed. Something as simple as her style of shading made Iracebeth look less threatening, softer, and more womanly. The curve of Iracebeth's lips looked less like a sinister smirk and more like a real smile. It was as if Aurora was trying to find the true woman underneath the monster.

After what seemed like an eternity, Iracebeth demanded to see the progress as she stood up for a stretch break. Aurora had no problems with her marching straight over to the canvas. Both Aurora and Stayne braced themselves for the potential criticism that they expected from her sharp tongue.

Try as she might, she couldn't find any fault with Aurora's work.

"You're so slow," she chided, "but it might well be worth the wait."

Aurora's stomach rumbled. The whole morning seemed to have gone by in less than a minute for her. Thankfully, some servants brought out sandwiches and tea. Aurora ate hers with one hand and painted with the other.

"Do you know what the best part of having a servant that doesn't speak is?" Iracebeth asked Stayne.

"That they cannot complain?" he hazarded a guess.

"Exactly."

Since he was standing behind Iracebeth, she didn't see the smirk. Aurora's dark brown eyes locked with his frosty gray one and a moment of understanding passed between them. Her smile was so subtle that he doubted its presence.

When the sun was threatening to go down, Aurora decided that the painting was finished. Iracebeth demanded that it be hung in the throne room so that she could look at it.

"I can't believe it," Martha whispered to Stayne, "she even makes Iracebeth look good! Maybe I ought to hire her!"

The two shared a private chuckle. Aurora stifled a laugh as she attached the wire to the canvas. Two nervous male servants took over the task of hanging it up. She went rigid when Stayne's gloved hands touched her upper arms.

"Keep it up," he hissed in one ear. Then, he walked off as if he hadn't said a word. She stared at his retreating back.

_Keep it up because you think I'm good or keep it up so I won't die? Or both?_

Her look at Martha was pointed.

"Don't ask me…he hasn't told me, either," Martha said, reading her expression with accuracy. Aurora shook her head and went to get washed up for dinner. Her hands were spattered in a rainbow of colors. She was always a mess after she finished…she always ended up with paint on her face, her hands, in her hair, and anywhere else there was exposed skin.

Other than working on paintings, it seemed that she had the run of the castle. Aurora wandered about the halls, as silent and pale as a ghost. She heard two people talking and paused around the corner from them. Closer inspection revealed Lady Big Ears and Lady Big Nose—she couldn't remember their names, so that's what she called them in her head.

"Have you seen the way he looks at her? It's positively…scandalous!" Lady Big Ears said to Big Nose.

"Well, let's face it…she is something of a novelty, isn't she? Not an enlarged part on her…even her breasts aren't that big."

"Poor, ugly little creature. It won't be long before the Queen tires of her presence and orders her to be killed."

Aurora frowned. She was used to being made fun of, but she hated gossip. She was tempted to walk out there and give them a piece of her mind, but something stopped her.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Stayne has a soft spot for the girl. I was there when he carried her inside. Why would he save her if he didn't want something in return?"

Lady Big Ears let out a snort of laughter.

"Exactly…I'll bet he's bedded most of the girls here. The way Iracebeth carries on, he's been with her as well. I wonder how she stands it…that missing eye." She shuddered as if thinking of something disgusting.

"Well…I happen to think he's very handsome. It makes him look…dangerous." Lady Big Nose shuddered, but it was far from fear.

"I don't think he'd touch her. She's mad…that girl, I mean."

"I do. It might be something of a novelty for him."

Aurora bristled.

"Come to think of it, I've seen her looking at him quite a bit. Do you think something's happening there?"

"No…not yet. It's too soon. She's only been here for a day or so."

"A lot of things can happen in a day, dear…"

The two women cackled like witches.

"You're absolutely terrible, you know that!"

Suddenly, both women went dead quiet. Aurora risked a glance around the corner.

"Oh…Hello, Stayne!" one of them blurted out nervously.

His look at her was pure contempt.

"Ladies…if you must continue your hen party, do it somewhere else. We don't need the halls cluttered up!"

Both of them stared after him, open-mouthed. He sounded as though he was in a horrendous mood. They hissed to each other in hushed whispers as he rounded the corner. Aurora nearly jumped out of her skin when they collided with each other. His grip on her elbow was vice-like. She didn't fight him this time as he dragged her away.

"I wouldn't lurk in the shadows and listen, if I were you," he told her, "you're liable to hear something you don't like."

She stared at him.

_What's your problem?_ She wondered.

She wondered where he was taking her. He was looking straight ahead, moving in impossibly large strides where she struggled to keep up. She estimated that his legs were nearly three quarters of her height if not more. She was almost out of breath when they reached the end of the hallway.

"STAYNE!" Iracebeth's shrill voice howled.

Aurora saw his expression change for a fraction of a second.

"Damn it to Hell," he swore under his breath. He released her and moved towards the sound of Iracebeth's call without so much as a backwards glance. Aurora watched him go and rubbed her arm.

_I guess I'll never know where we were headed now,_ she thought resentfully. As sick as she was of being dragged around, she was grateful that he'd come along when he did. How long would she have stayed there and listened to Big Nose and Big Ears talking? A slight flutter in her gut followed that.

_Why would they assume we're together? We barely know each other past our names…_

She walked towards the sun room where the balcony was. It was a cold, clear night and the fresh air might make her feel better. The air in the castle was heavy and smothering.


	5. Chapter 5

As he'd worked for Iracebeth over the years, Ilosovic Stayne had begun to categorize Iracebeth's various crises into three lists: minor, major, and catastrophic. An example of a minor crisis was when she couldn't find something or she was whining about something that had inconvenienced her. A major crisis involved the loss of a life. In the entire time he'd been here, he'd only seen one or two catastrophic events.

The crisis he'd just dealt with had been a minor one. She'd lost a favorite bracelet and accused some of the servants of having stolen it. He hoped she'd felt foolish when he'd unearthed it from under the dresser. His blood pressure was finally starting to drop down to its normal level as he strode out of her suite. It was time to find Aurora.

She wasn't in her room. It was getting very late and he wondered where she'd gone. Martha was already asleep, so she wasn't with her. Eventually, he collided with her in the hallway. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as if she'd seen a ghost.

It was disconcerting to be around a being so silent as she was. He looked at her abnormally pale face and helped her off the floor. He'd never wished she'd say something so strongly as he did in that moment. Her hands remained closed around his for a split second after she was standing.

"It's late," he remarked, "why aren't you asleep?"

Her gaze dropped to his boots for a moment. He took that to mean that she wasn't willing to tell him. Fine. They could dispense with the trivial crap and get to the point.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

Surprised that he didn't press, her brows squeezed together for a moment. She looked like a child trying to figure out why a puzzle piece wasn't fitting in a certain spot. But she followed him anyway, and for that, he was grateful.

He seemed to defy the laws of physics. She estimated him to weigh at least three hundred pounds by virtue of his massive frame and height. There was bound to be a lot of muscle under all that armor. The armor itself was metallic and probably weighed a lot by itself. She wondered how on earth he could walk so quietly. Even as big as he was, he seemed to also blend right into the shadows. Though he wore mostly black, that wasn't it…there seemed to be something in his very nature that made him blend into the dark. She suspected that he could do it even if he wore white or some other bright color. For a few seconds, she wondered if she should be following him.

_Oh, please…I've been locked up for at least ten years. I've had psychiatrists knocking me out with drugs. He's been around me at least twice when I've been unconscious. What is there left to worry about?_

Stayne glanced back to make sure she was still keeping up with him. The castle was like a maze in the dark and a person could easily get lost if they didn't know their way. He caught the thoughtfulness on her face and wondered what was going on in her mind. She was one of the few women that didn't talk all the time, so it wasn't so easy to guess. It was comforting and unsettling at the same time.

He unlocked the door to his chambers and let her in first. She stayed right where she was while he lit a few candles for light. The scroll was laying on his desk right where he'd left it. She came closer.

"This is the Oraculum. It shows, in detail, every event from Underland's beginning to end."

He unrolled it and moved so that she could sit in the chair. Her feet barely touched the floor—it was one of the few times that she'd really noticed the height difference.

"Recognize that?"

Aurora stared. It was a sketch-like image of her laying sprawled in the grass.

"That's the day you arrived. It was right before the Jub-Jub bird attacked you."

He unrolled another couple of inches. She saw herself painting the queen's portrait. When she glanced back at him in curiosity, he finally unrolled it further.

"See this? That's Alice—that's the girl we're searching for. She's slaying the Jabberwocky. And that's you right there. You're going to take over this kingdom."

Her dark eyes had gone big in disbelief. She shook her head.

"Oh, yes, you are," he responded, "and look here."

She glanced where his finger pointed.

"You're royalty by blood, Aurora. Iracebeth and Mirana are your sisters."

It was an odd moment. She was looking at him and he visibly saw the pieces lock into place. If it was possible, her face became paler in the candlelight and her eyes glazed and lost their focus. He grabbed her as she started to tilt.

"Don't you dare pass out! Do you realize what could happen if you're found down here?"

He shook her slightly and the glazed expression cleared. She made the "why?" gesture.

"Which part?"

She pointed at him.

"Why am I telling you this? Because you're the last hope we have for a better life…the last hope that Underland has."

She seemed troubled and squirmed, trying to get out of his grip. Stayne slowly let go of her, realizing he had forgotten his own strength. She seemed drained, but no longer in danger of passing out. Grabbing a pencil, she quickly scribbled something in her book.

_All those heads in the moat are HER fault?_

He didn't answer and he didn't have to. She understood immediately when she saw his grim expression. Her hand was shaking as she wrote again:

_ She doesn't know who I am, does she?_

"Of course not. Do you think you'd still be alive if she did? That's why I was glad you played yesterday in the hospital wing. She has no regard for life…she tried to kill Mirana, too."

He saw something in Aurora's face that actually made him feel better: anger.

"Yes…I was there that day. The Jabberwocky nearly burned her to a crisp. She had possession of the Vorpal Sword until we invaded. She's banished to Marmoreal right now."

Aurora's eyes closed as if getting a headache. She scribbled something else furiously, her weight bearing down on the pencil so hard that she nearly snapped the point off.

_This has to be stopped._

"I know."

_That's why you saved me…_

"Yes."

_I don't want to be queen, though. _

"Would you rather live in fear for the rest of your life?"

She shook her head.

_No. Then I'd end up exactly like you._

He wasn't sure why that statement seemed to pierce him. He'd been accused of horrendous things over the years…he'd even done horrendous things that made those accusations true. He'd been called all sorts of ugly names and curses behind his back. And yet, this was worse. The anger flared up faster than he could stop it, but there was something underneath that he never allowed himself to feel: pain.

She noted his expression, saw the coldness that came over him. The hairs on her arms stood up and she physically felt the temperature in the room drop.

_What did she do to you? How did you get stuck in this situation, anyway?_

"That," he said icily, "is none of your business."

So…she'd hit a wall. Aurora's gaze on him was too intent. She studied him the way she'd studied Iracebeth earlier. It was as though she was committing every shadow, every angle to memory.

He didn't like it. It was much too personal.

"I don't have to threaten you to keep you quiet," he said coldly, "you know very well about the consequences about what will happen to you if anyone knows who you are."

Her expression then was odd. Her face had gone blank for a moment. She was no longer staring at him, but through him. It was a habit that she'd acquired at the hospital when she needed to put a wall up between herself and the people that had shattered her mind. A frighteningly comforting sense of familiarity had settled around her shoulders like a cloak. She was used to being threatened. After the shock treatments, the insulin shock (which was partially responsible for making her so heavy), the isolation, sensory deprivation, and being denied food and sleep at times, she no longer feared death. She no longer feared anything associated with death. Nothing that Stayne could say would shake her.

So…Iracebeth was a confirmed murderer. Aurora wasn't fond of that, but she'd never really felt any sense of family anyway. It bothered her that she wasn't surprised. She wondered if Mirana had fared any better. She wondered about her real parents. Forgetting that Stayne stood a mere few inches away from her, she unrolled the scroll towards the past end. There was a drawing there of her sisters and her true mother and father. The pregnant curve of her mother's stomach was evident. At least, she thought miserably, her mother had a kind face, as did her father. How had everything gotten so dark and twisted?

She jerked when Stayne touched her again—she'd forgotten he was there. Slowly, wearily, she turned to look at him. The haunted look had never left her features, but it had returned with full force. Her dark eyes seemed too big in her colorless face.

"I should get you back upstairs before someone notices you're gone," he commented.

She looked very tired. Maybe it was the candlelight and the way it threw harsh shadows over everything…she slid clumsily out of the chair and stuffed her book into the bag. The slightest bit of sympathy for her rippled at the edge of his mind. She moved like an old woman and an invisible burden seemed to weight her shoulders down. His hand instinctively stayed on her back upon this display of frailty. He said nothing to her until they had reached her room.

"Well…good night," he said awkwardly. She acknowledged him with a nod and closed the door.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to Artemis615 for reviewing.

It was a long time before Aurora finally fell asleep. Her mind was whirling. In the absence of tranquilizers, her mind seemed to be working overtime. She thought about Moses leading the Jews out of Egypt and how they'd wandered the desert for forty years.

_That hospital…my old life was Egypt,_ she thought grimly, _and now God's lead me here…Underland is beautiful, but dangerous. It's like my desert…so when do I get to the promised land?_

She thought about Stayne and the expression he'd gotten when she'd said she didn't want to end up like him. A pang of guilt for making him feel bad was there, but she felt that way because she'd hit a wall. Something must have happened to him to cause him to be a murderer…or at least an accomplice to it. But what? What was it that he was hiding?

_We're all hiding something,_ she thought grimly, _every single one of us._

Sin was sin in God's eyes. Just because she'd never killed anyone didn't make her any better than Iracebeth or Stayne. She'd done a lot of things that she wasn't proud of as well, but she chose not to dwell on them. Those people at the hospital had thrived on guilt and used it to eat people alive from the inside out. She wouldn't let it happen again.

Then, an even more unsettling feeling came over her.

There were moments that Stayne could be really rough with her. She didn't appreciate the times that he'd dragged her around. But it had bothered her more when he'd treated her as if she was as fragile as glass. He still hadn't sorted it out in his mind as to whether she really was crazy or not.

_We're all crazy, we just have to find the brand we can live with._

Her eyes slid closed. She was feeling thoroughly drained. All this mental debating was getting her nowhere but more concerned.

Stayne closed his door and locked it securely behind him. In his haste, he hadn't bothered to blow out the candles. The Oraculum was still laying open. He rolled it back up and blew out the candles. The tendrils of smoke hung in the air and he waved irritably at them to make them disperse. He was annoyed and he couldn't figure out why. Once confident that he was truly again, he began to strip away the layers of armor. After he'd unbuckled his body armor, it slid to the floor with a thump. The gloves went next, then the boots, then the thick black trousers and the shirt with the dark red and black stripes. He slipped between the sheets with a yawn. It was only then that he realized just how tired he was. The weariness seemed to have seeped into his bones. The cool softness of his pillow against his face was almost as welcome as a lover's hand. His eye slid closed. He fell asleep rather quickly, but he was exasperated that Aurora's stunned face was the last thing he saw in his mind's eye.

_I'm getting in too deep,_ he lamented drowsily, _I shouldn't get attached to her. It's strictly business…besides, she doesn't like me anyway._

His traitorous unconscious took him to a place where the past, present, and future blended together. His patch was missing conspicuously in the dream and he saw his own face in the mirror. The deep scar on his cheek left an angry red line everywhere except for the eye itself. It had once been a silvery gray to match the other one, but the scarred eye was blind. A white film had formed over the lens and iris and rendered it sightless. It wasn't the most disgusting thing in the world—there were far worse deformities to bear than this. It was the way that people reacted to it that bothered him the worst. He remembered a few times before he'd become Iracebeth's lapdog that there had been women to touch the scar fearlessly and tell him that it didn't affect their opinion of him. Still, a couple of them had even said they loved him for what he'd endured at her sinister hand. He dreamed of the one woman he'd been in love with that he'd anticipated spending his life with…Lady Talia Hawthorne had been pregnant with his child when she'd been brutally murdered. He'd never forgive Iracebeth for that one. Even blackmailing him for Gabriel's murder wasn't as bad as killing an innocent woman with an unborn baby. He thought of the home he'd purchased in Queast that he really should sell since he couldn't bear to go back to it. He'd never stop seeing Talia's golden hair and blue eyes—whether they resembled the ocean or the sky, he never had been able to decide. He desperately wanted to believe that Heaven existed and that there was a God just so that Talia would be safe up there with Him.

His dreams changed as quickly as a kaleidoscope being shaken by a bored child would. He dreamed of the Jabberwocky being killed (not much of a loss in his opinion) and of Aurora taking over. Unlike Iracebeth, she probably wouldn't mind being the lesser queen and she just didn't seem cold-blooded to him. Working under her might be tolerable, even a pleasure to a certain extent. He might never be happy or cheerful again, but he could be content.

He hoped she'd cut him a break there.

He hoped she'd choose to let him stay on as Knave. The hope that came with new freedom was equally weighted with fear. He could go wherever he wanted after Iracebeth was ousted, but everyone would hate him and fear him if he left this castle. It wasn't easy to think about the future. With a sigh, he buried himself further under the covers. When he'd thought he'd had no choice, it had been easy. His excuse was that he'd done what he'd done to survive. There was a very big difference between survival and truly living. It scared him. The possibilities were endless…

It didn't escape Aurora's notice how tired that he looked the next day. She'd gone into the kitchen earlier than expected to exercise her right to a good brood over coffee. She was nursing the sugar-laden concoction when he came in.

As though he didn't really notice anyone or anything around him, he poured himself a cup. The sugar and cream were completely ignored. He downed about half the cup's contents before the strong bitterness and scalding heat broke through the fatigue. He felt the burning sensation all the way to his stomach, but it forced the mental fog away. His grip on the cup was as tight as if it were all that kept him alive.

Aurora's insides went taut when he looked at her. So many things had happened in the last forty-eight hours that she couldn't be sure why. The linings of her guts felt as tight as trampolines. She was almost sure she felt the coffee splash inside of her. She was thankful she hadn't eaten anything yet, or the solid food would have been ricocheting around like boulders. The servants were just rising and they hadn't yet taken notice of the silent, brooding Knave. How, she mused, was a mystery. As well as he'd blended with the shadows last night, he seemed as conspicuous here as an elephant.

Their gazes did eventually lock when she ventured closer to the coffee pot for another cup. Without breaking her gaze, she offered to refill his.

_Bad night?_

He could see her lips move soundlessly. Trying to catch "criminals" and "gather evidence" had made him a skilled lip-reader.

"You're one to talk," he replied.

It was true. Though she always seemed pale and sickly, the bluish shadows under her dark eyes made it even worse. As if to counter his statement, she stirred her sugar in with more vigor than was necessary. She nearly sent the contents sloshing out of the cup. Her nerves seemed to be drawn as tightly as her stomach.

"STAYNE!"

She jerked involuntarily and some of the coffee did splash out of the cup. Biting back a curse, she wiped up the offensive brown stain. He sighed. A bitter smile crossed his features.

"You'll get used to it," he whispered, "much more quickly than you think."

When she was finally able to pick the cup up without jerking it, he held his out.

"To Hell…may its gates open wide and let us out someday."

Their cups clicked together. Aurora involuntarily backed away a few steps when the doors flew open. For some odd reason, she felt as though she'd been doing something wrong. How was it that something as mundane as a coffee moment could be so risky?

"Do I have the option to resign yet?" the twitchy male servant from yesterday asked.

"Only if you can take me with you," Stayne replied. He heard an odd noise and looked over at Aurora.

Her cheeks were flushed. She had set the cup back on the counter and had her hands clamped firmly over her mouth. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was shaking. It took him a good minute and a half to realize that she was laughing.

How odd…he could hear the air moving in and out of her lungs, but he still heard no trace of a voice. He found himself desperately wanting to. It had been so long since anyone had been this amused in his company that he craved it like a drug.

"If only putting in a two-week notice didn't carry a risk of being decapitated," he said so quietly that no one else could hear, "she wouldn't have anyone left to scream at."

Aurora's whole body shook now and tears streamed out of her dark eyes. She swiped at them with the back of her hand. He was about to say something else when Iracebeth came storming in.

"Stayne! What are you doing down here? Oh, never mind! I want—"

She stared as though disbelieving her eyes. Aurora's smile iced over and she attempted to nonchalantly sip her coffee.

"…what is she laughing at?" Iracebeth asked suspiciously.

Stayne shrugged.

"I wouldn't know, Your Majesty. She _is_ mad, after all."

Aurora resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Anyway…someone has been in my tarts again. I want the culprit stopped!"

She huffed out of the kitchen again. It was Stayne's turn to chuckle at Aurora's expression.

She walked over to the glass platter that held the tarts and lifted the glass lid.

"Do you have a death wish?" he hissed. She took one out, broke it in half, and offered him one. Despite thinking she really had lost her mind, he accepted it. They crammed the pastry into their mouths and washed it down with the coffee. When the other servants came in, there was no trace of cherry syrup on either one of their faces.

It was silly. It was childlike. It was mundane…it was _dangerous_.

So why did it feel so good?

Aurora swallowed and gave him a grin reminiscent of a naughty child that had just gotten away with something. He almost hated to leave her there, but bigger and better things had to be handled. The search was still on for Alice.

He was still laughing inwardly at the tart incident later on even though the search kept coming up empty.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a croquet game going on later that afternoon. Aurora stayed back a little way from the rest of the crowd. She didn't really prefer being in the thick of things when everyone assumed she couldn't understand them. She got the most irritated when Lady Big Nose and Lady Big Ears spoke slowly and in exaggerated tones as though she were a toddler. She resisted the urge to flip them both off and wondered (with some amusement) if such a gesture even carried meaning in Underland. Her mental bashing of the residents of Salazen Grum didn't improve when she saw that Iracebeth used birds and hedgehogs for croquet equipment. With all the animal furniture around, it really shouldn't have surprised her in the least.

The game was interrupted by a giant girl. Aurora looked up at her quizzically…her face seemed familiar. She wondered how on earth that girl had gotten in the bushes without anyone seeing. She'd been here longer than anyone else had.

"I've been growing an awful lot lately," the girl was telling the queen, "I tower over everyone in Umbridge. I came here because I knew you'd understand…"

"Of course, my dear girl. Anyone with a head as large as yours is welcome in my court."

She shouted at the servants to find some clothes for the giant girl. The crowd dispersed, muttering. Aurora ventured closer with a raised eyebrow. The girl had to squint to see what was written on the page in her book.

_Do I know you from somewhere, Um? I could swear I met you before._

"I'm sure you haven't," the girl replied, "do you know many giant people?"

Aurora held up one finger. So far, she'd only met one giant and that was Stayne. She wondered if he was having any luck finding the Alice person.

"You can't talk, can you?"

_I don't have much to say…I don't really think anyone cares what I have to say, though. I prefer to talk through my pictures._

She held the book up. Um's giant hands took the book and she flipped through it.

"These are really good."

She handed the book back to Aurora.

_I was hired on as the court artist. _

"I can see why."

_Umbridge must have been a lot like my world…people who are different aren't well accepted there, either._

Despite being as naked as a newborn, Aurora suspected Um of hiding something, but she chose not to ask. Martha came outside with the tape measure to get Um's measurements.

"I'll be right back, Um."

"Thank you," Um said awkwardly.

The little white rabbit with the watch stayed outside with them. He and Um spoke to each other as though they knew each other. The little mouse was also talking. They were discussing a man that was called "Tarrant." Aurora had not yet met him, but she thought she recognized the name. As soon as Martha brought out Um's dress (a patchwork-like garment made of drapes and sheets), Aurora scribbled something in her book.

_I don't know the guy personally, but I think I know where he is. The Queen was talking about a Mad Hatter upstairs…I've been meaning to go investigate anyway. _

"Wonderful," Um sighed, "would you take us up there?"

Aurora and the white rabbit led the way. She learned that his name was McTwisp and that the mouse was Mallympkin, Mally for short.

The Hatter, Tarrant, was very happy to see Um again. Aurora watched the reunion and felt a slight pang in her heart. A pervasive sense of loneliness invaded her mind. She left after a moment.

Stayne returned around lunchtime. He was not in a good mood. Aurora decided it might be a good idea to give him some space. She was working on Iracebeth's latest demand for a portrait when he joined them in the throne room. He caught sight of Um and an unusual twinkle graced his eye.

Aurora frowned.

"And who is this lovely creature?" he whispered to Iracebeth.

"Um, my new favorite?"

He looked over at Alice.

"What is your name?"

"Um," the queen replied impatiently.

"I do believe your name has slipped the queen's mind," Stayne said with a smile.

"Her name IS UM! IDIOT!" Iracebeth shouted.

"From Umbridge," Um said, almost apologetically.

He still smiled, but there was irritation underneath it. Aurora didn't blame him.

It didn't escape her notice the way that Stayne looked at Um. It was…hungry. Lustful.

_He's undressing her with his eyes…uh…eye,_ Aurora thought bitterly, _no one's ever looked at me that way._

She wondered the sudden sourness stabbed like barbs at her mind. What should she be upset about? Ilosovic Stayne was, after all, a man. And other than his missing eye, he was a healthy man. He was human. Um, unfortunately, didn't seem to return his interest. She averted her gaze from him and refused to look at him. Aurora didn't know what to think. Part of her was a little relieved.

_He may be selfish, but he helped me,_ she thought, _he's the first one that helped me in a long time. Of course I don't want to share him._

That thought left her deeply troubled.

It escaped Stayne's notice that Aurora seemed preoccupied throughout lunch, throughout the rest of the afternoon, and throughout dinner. He had other things on his mind.

Iracebeth was in one of her dark moods this evening. As the storm rolled in, she sighed discontentedly.

"Everyone loves my sister more than me. Why?"

"Is it not better to be feared than loved?" he asked without any conviction.

"Perhaps…I'm beginning to have second thoughts," she answered, "I've had to kill an awful lot of people to instill that fear."

"Even your own husband," he said absently.

"You know I had to do it…he would have left me."

Stayne didn't look down. He would have seen Gabriel's crown glinting gold against the grayish-tinted heads. He wondered why she didn't at least give him a proper burial.

"What do I need them for? I have you," she said, flinging her arms around him suddenly. Her face rubbed against his stomach. Ilosovic glanced down at the top of her enormous head. Nothing but coldness and bitterness was present in his heart. He didn't even pity her. She deserved to be lonely after what she'd done.

Aurora was wandering the hallway. She stalked past the others, not caring whose attention she drew. She was angry. She couldn't figure out why she was angry and that made her angrier. Um swished past her and didn't even seem to see her. Aurora chased after her, wanting to talk to her, but Um was moving too quickly. Though Um continued to walk, Aurora decided not to keep trying to catch her.

Then, Stayne appeared. He, too, walked right past Aurora and moved towards the large blonde girl. Aurora frowned.

Stayne pinned Um against the wall. The disgust on her face was evident. Aurora also detected a trace of nerves.

"I like you, Um…" he said huskily, "I like…largeness…"

Um pushed him back.

"Get away from me!" she snapped.

Aurora heard a chuckle. She saw someone sprinting down the hallway, but she didn't see who it was. Either way, the air suddenly turned dark and foreboding. The anger was now mixed with nerves. She stalked towards Stayne and grabbed his hand. His expression was pure nastiness.

"What do you want?" he snapped, obviously angry that he'd been rejected.

Aurora glared at him reproachfully. She pointed to the other hallway and did a very exaggerated imitation of one of the court ladies. Then, she pointed at Stayne and the spot that Um had just been standing in.

"Someone saw us?" he asked.

She nodded.

It was the first time she'd seen the color drain out of his face the way it did. He scowled, but she could see the fear underneath. A mixture of nerves and loathing made his body stiffen.

"Aurora…" he couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted to say, "…I must ask you not to tell anyone. Can you swear to me that you won't?"

She nodded. Though she didn't like the situation, she understood. His ridiculous behavior was pent-up lust and loneliness. Iracebeth was as likely as a porcupine to be his lover. The ladies of the court were too frivolous and gossiped too much. Aurora was the only other woman besides the rest of them that he'd been exposed to and he still treated her as if she wasn't all there. That left Um as the only candidate…it was in that moment that she despised male logic.

"Thank you," he said grudgingly. His pride was hurt, she knew. There were a million things that she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure she should. He walked away and she followed him. He wasn't sure whether he minded or not…his intention was to grab some Outlandish wine and get completely smashed. It was about ten times stronger than regular wine.

The kitchen was dark, as the servants had finished cleaning up a few hours ago. He went straight to the pantry and retrieved the bottle.

"Don't look at me like that," he said without turning around. He could sense Aurora giving him a Look. When he turned back to look at her, she was conspicuously not looking at him. He retrieved two glasses and sat down at one of the tables. She watched him pour the blood-colored liquid into them.

"If you're going to stay, then stay. But I'd prefer it if you aren't completely sober either."

She accepted the glass with some hesitation. He downed the contents quickly. Slowly, she raised the glass to her lips.

It wasn't what she was expecting. She'd only smelled wine one time on the breath of one of the orderlies and it stunk to her…this didn't have that noxious smell. Instead, it smelled sweet, like fruit juice. She took a cautious sip. It tasted even better than it smelled. It was hard to believe that this drink had any alcohol in it whatsoever. Still, she drank it slowly. Stayne was already on his second glass.

"I hate this place," he sighed, "it's lonely. The only women I've ever been around for years are Iracebeth…enough said…and those court ladies with the fake body parts."

Aurora nearly choked. She couldn't suppress her smile.

"Of course they're fake…how many people do you know that are born like that?" Stayne asked. He was smiling now as well.

"They giggle like schoolgirls, but I despise every one of them almost as much as I despise Iracebeth. I do hope you keep better company when you run this castle."

Aurora nodded. He refilled her glass, but she drank this one even more slowly than the first. She was already beginning to feel a pleasant haze settle over her brain. Her face felt flushed as though she had a fever and a sense of dreaminess clouded her thoughts.

"I might not have known Um for even a full day," he said warmly, "but I'll miss her! She was quite beautiful. Aurora…do you think you could draw her for me?"

Aurora's hand moved of her own accord. She quickly sketched the blonde girl and tore the page out for him.

"Thank you."

He was clearly buzzed now…there were pink patches on his cheeks.

"Aurora, I think you're the only friend I've got," he sighed, "you listen and you don't repeat anything. You're not anything like Iracebeth…it's hard to believe that the two of you are even related. You remind me more of Mirana…I think you'd like her. She's beautiful, but a bit eccentric. You have the same eyes, come to think of it."

Aurora rested her chin in her hand. The wine warmed her insides and she no longer felt the evening chill brought on by the storm. Thunder growled outside and lightning split the skies. The storm seemed miles away, though…

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? They're so dark…you wear your heart in them."

Stayne was vaguely aware that the filter between his mouth and his brain wasn't working very well. Aurora's face flushed brightly. She froze when his fingertips grazed her cheek.

"Don't turn away…you have color. You look more alive this way."

She leaned into his touch, her eyes sliding closed. Was it so wrong to accept a little affection? His fingers were cool and felt good against her burning face. Smiling a little more, he moved closer to her.

"Touch me, Aurora…"

She leaned into his arms and was vaguely aware of his breath stirring her hair. A feeling of intoxication that had very little to do with the wine flooded her.

"Ever been in love, Rora?" he purred. She shook her head.

"Ever been with a man?" he asked, his breath in her ear sending pleasant tingles down her back. She shook her head. She'd been institutionalized since she was a child…she wasn't ignorant in the ways of the world, but she hadn't been allowed to participate.

"I could show you, you know…"

Aurora jerked away from him. Her heart was thundering and she felt as though a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her. Her sudden intake of air was as close to a gasp as one could get while being a mute. Somewhat annoyed, Stayne looked at her as though she'd lost her mind.

"I wouldn't hurt you, you know…I've been with virgins before."

She turned and bolted out of the kitchen. She didn't stop running until she made it upstairs to her room. Locking her door behind her, she didn't allow the tears to come until she'd collapsed on the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

_As God as my witness, I will never drink again…_

The morning was off to a Hellish start. He couldn't find Aurora anywhere and whoever had eavesdropped on he and Um had told the Queen. Iracebeth was now in a horrendous mood and asking him why she should forgive him.

"Your Majesty, it wasn't my fault! Um forced herself on me! I told her that my heart belongs to you—she is obsessed with me!" he pleaded. For one dreadful second, he was afraid that Iracebeth could see through his ruse. Then, her face colored until it resembled a giant overripe tomato.

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!" she roared maliciously.

Stayne sprang to his feet. His head was pounding and his stomach felt as if he'd drank acid and eaten broken glass. He regretted what he was about to do, but it couldn't be helped. He passed Aurora in the hallway and paused only for a moment. He wanted to say something to her, but the expression on her face stopped him.

The look she gave him was pure venom. He'd never seen anyone so furious in his life. He was used to Iracebeth's tantrums, but it wasn't the same. The look she gave him actually made him feel chilled. She turned on her heel and walked away.

_Forget her…I have more important things to handle,_ he thought.

Aurora waited until Stayne was gone before sprinting down the hallway. She knew exactly where Um was—or she had a suspicion, at least. She burst into the room just as Um was preparing to cut the Hatter's chains with a sword.

_Must be the Vorpal Sword…_she thought grimly. Um froze when she saw Aurora. Without missing a second, she slammed the door behind her and locked it.

"Stayne is coming! Get him loose and let's get the Hell out of here!" Aurora panted. It had been so long since she'd spoken that her own voice sounded foreign to her.

Everyone stared at her with an open mouth. Aurora sighed in frustration. She was knocked to the floor when Stayne and two guards plowed in past her.

"Arrest that girl for unlawful seduction!" Stayne snapped. The two guards stalked forward. The Hatter threw two fabric rolls at them and they fell to the floor with a clatter. Stayne nearly tripped. He turned to see Aurora clinging to one of his legs. He kicked loose.

"I'll deal with you later," he hissed. Tarrant rushed forward, unwilling to let Stayne get Um. Aurora wrapped both arms around Stayne's middle and held on. Though she slowed him down, she couldn't stop him completely.

"Run, Alice!" Mally yelled.

Stayne turned, a menacing smile on his face.

"Alice…?" he asked venomously.

Alice bolted. Aurora finally recognized her by the accidental revelation. She released her hold on Stayne, for Tarrant seemed to be holding his own. She decided to go help Alice.

Alice got all the way out to the courtyard before she was surrounded by a bunch of the red playing card soldiers.

"Alice…Of course, why didn't I see it? Well, it has been a long time and you were such a little tyke then," Stayne said condescendingly, "now, be a good girl and give me the sword."

"Give this!" Aurora unhooked the bandersnatch's chain and the bulldog-like animal barreled out of its stone den. It knocked over the soldiers and sent them clattering noisily to the stone walkway. Alice hopped onto its back and they shot out of the gate like a bullet. Bayard, the bloodhound that Stayne had been using to hunt for her, sprinted alongside the bandersnatch.

"Bayard! To Marmoreal!" she shouted.

Stayne turned to look at Aurora. The playing cards were too busy trying to get themselves righted to notice.

"You did that on purpose!" he spat angrily.

"What if I did?" she asked coolly.

He was so upset with her that it didn't register that she'd spoken to him.

"Do you realize what you've done?" he picked her up and shook her hard.

"Fulfilled the prophecy. Now put me down, you insensitive bastard!"

Stunned at the heat in her voice, he did put her down. She brushed herself off as if his touch had contaminated her.

"By the way, you're a donkey when you're drunk!" she snapped before walking away.

_Did she just call me an ass?_

His thoughts suddenly ground to a halt.

_Wait! She's talking! She's insulting me every few seconds, but she's talking!_

He chased after her, but she ignored him.

"I see you're back to being a mute," he remarked, "are you always that pleasant when you speak? If so, I think I prefer your silence!"

She made an indecent gesture that he understood all too well and stomped off.

"STAYNE!"

"Damn it, not again!"

He sighed deeply. The slight hangover he'd woken up with was turning into a full-blown migraine. He made a mental note to go see Dr. Hathaway for it if he ever got a chance. The day was going _so_ well…

Breaking the news to Iracebeth was something he really looked forward to.

"Your Majesty, Um has escaped…"

WHACK! The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed off of the stone tiles.

"…on the bandersnatch…"

WHACK!

"…with the Vorpal Sword…"

WHACK!

His face began to register the sting and his already throbbing head was worsening to a sickening pitch.

"How could you let this happen?" she roared.

"I may have underestimated Alice…but we have her conspirators: the Hatter…and a dormouse…"

He waited to see if she would strike him again.

"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!"

She stalked off, leaving him there. He sighed and decided that now would be a good time to go get a headache remedy.

Aurora was in the hallway. She saw the red mark on his cheek and gave him a questioning look.

_Why do you put up with that?_ Her expression said.

"Because I have no choice…you know that."

By the time he reached the hospital wing, the nausea was horrendous. Dr. Hathaway busily mixed up the potion.

"Bad morning, huh?" Hathaway asked.

"Don't talk, just stir!" Stayne demanded. He gulped when the sourness tried to force its way up. Dr. Hathaway gave him a steaming mug. Deciding against asking about the ingredients, he forced down the stuff. Surprisingly, the mist coming off of the mug was from cold, not heat. The minty taste helped considerably.

"It will take about a half-hour to work," Hathaway informed him, "you might want to lay down until it takes effect."

For once, he didn't object. After he finished downing the cup's contents, he eased himself back on the bed.

"Thank you," he groaned gratefully when a cold cloth was lain over his face.

Hathaway smirked when he saw Aurora putting it there.

"You're welcome," he said, trying to disguise the amusement in his voice, "I'll just go now…give you some time to rest."

He closed the drapes and walked out. Stayne could still sense a presence, however. After a second, he knew who it was.

"What do you want, Aurora?"

Silence.

"Your selective mutism is getting on my nerves. Either you're angry with me or you aren't. If you are, I would appreciate it if you'd go sulk elsewhere."

He heard her get up and leave. There was an odd sense of loss when she did…he almost regretted saying that. With no one around to distract him, he attempted to let his mind slide into unconsciousness. At least there he could escape for a little while.

Aurora was out in the gardens when Iracebeth came outside. Though she was angry, it cheered the Red Queen up slightly when she saw how miserable Aurora was.

"I had a lot of faith him, too," Iracebeth commented, "I suppose you know that if I lose my crown that you'll lose your job."

Aurora nodded.

"You know…my sister wouldn't recognize you. You'd be practically the only one in my courts that she wouldn't recognize. You could go and get the Vorpal Sword back from Marmoreal."

Aurora cringed inwardly. She gave Iracebeth a look of disbelief.

"If anyone could do it, you could," Iracebeth told her, "you practically blend into the shadows…sometimes I hardly know you're there. Perhaps we can fix Ilosovic's little blunder…"

Aurora, as usual, was silent.

"He's lucky I'm so crazy about him," Iracebeth muttered, "and then come to find out that Um is actually Alice! First she has the gall to come in here and pretend that she's someone else and takes my sword and my bandersnatch…that was bad enough! Then, tries to take my Knave right along with it! If I catch that girl, I'll chop her head off myself!"

It had started off as a mutter and ended as a roar. Aurora kept a completely straight face and even managed to force a look of concern.

"You know, Aurora, I rather like you! You listen so much better than the others!"

Iracebeth was beginning to feel better.

_Glad to be of service,_ Aurora thought dryly.

"Let's go do another painting! I shall soon have enough to fill the castle!" Iracebeth announced, not nearly as furious as she had been. Wearily, Aurora rose to follow her. She wondered if Stayne was feeling better yet.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't until that night that he'd gathered his courage to face her again. Stayne was used to people being angry with him. For some reason, Aurora being furious with him really got under his skin.

It was more than the fact that she'd be his future queen (if he was lucky).

It was more than the fact that she knew far too much and she could easily sell him out. The fact that he wasn't dead yet was a testament to her feelings…she at least liked him enough to not want him dead.

He finally found her on one of the balconies. She sat there staring off into space. It didn't escape his notice that she was looking in the direction of Marmoreal.

"Aurora."

It was so hard to say her name in that moment. There was a bit of a sting when she didn't acknowledge him. He sat down beside her.

"You're not making this easy, you know," he said accusingly.

She didn't look at him.

"Fine…maybe I don't deserve easy," he choked out awkwardly.

He took a breath and it all spilled out at once.

"I'm sorry…for everything."

It was vague, but he didn't feel like announcing every offense out loud. The list was beginning to get very long. A soft, cool breeze blew over both of them and ruffled her curls slightly. He ached to reach out and touch them, but restrained himself. He didn't want to make it worse.

"I just realized I don't know anything about you," he commented, "where you came from or why you always look so sad…why you stare off into space as if your mind is somewhere else completely…"

He couldn't help but smile a little as he said the next thing:

"Why you only speak to me when you're furious and cursing me out…"

He felt, rather than saw, her smile as well.

"Or why you wake up at least one time a night screaming as if you had the Jabberwocky after you."

Her shoulders tensed. He decided to stop there before he struck any more nerves.

"I may have been drunk last night and said things I shouldn't have," he said awkwardly, "but I meant it when I said you were the only real friend I have in this Hellish place."

He was about to get up and leave when she finally glanced in his direction. He decided not to move just yet.

"You're not the first person that knows nothing about me," she said quietly, "and you definitely won't be the last."

Her voice was different this time…he couldn't explain it. Earlier, when she had spoken, she'd had a crisp British accent very much like his. Now that she was calm, she sounded different completely. If he'd lived in the Overland, he'd have recognized the accent as American. The look of surprise hadn't quite left his face when she finally turned to face him.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Go for days without saying a word to anyone. Doesn't that get irritating? People assuming you're…well, mad?"

Aurora shrugged.

"Perspective. After so many years, people stopped listening and they only heard what they wanted to hear from me. So I have no reason to talk most of the time."

"And you broke your silence to shout at me?"

Aurora giggled.

"Everything was fine until then."

He couldn't help but smile. She admired what it did to his features; he looked younger and less hardened by the years. He should do it more often.

"But what made you start it?"

Her gaze averted from him. Stayne could actually visualize the wall going up in his mind's eye.

"Let's just say it was self-defense. Is, actually…you can't be punished for what the world doesn't know. If the world doesn't know your weaknesses, it can't use them against you."

It was a profound statement and it seemed to wear her out to make it.

"What happened to you?"

His voice was low, quiet. He knew he was treading into dangerous territory, but the curiosity had been very strong since he'd seen the drawing of the hospital in the Oraculum.

"A lot," was all she would tell him.

He decided not to press her for now. He was afraid she'd retreat again.

"If you stick around long enough, I might tell you eventually. But that's something no one's ever done. Just do me a favor and stop trying to hold me down—it makes me a little crazy."

He nodded.

"I want to leave, Stayne. I want to get the Hell out of this place."

"Why don't you leave?" he asked.

"For the same reason you don't," she responded darkly, "because it's my new familiar. You ever read the Bible?"

He shook his head. He hadn't even heard of it.

"Well, it's our religious text…one of them…in the Overland. It's basically a bunch of stories about the past talking about God and the people he worked through to get other people out of a bunch of big messes. There's one about a place called Egypt…beautiful place…very hot, lots of monumental sculptures and pyramids dedicated to the afterlife. Well, there's a bunch of people there that believe in God and they won't worship the ruler of Egypt cause he isn't God. Those people were in slavery and subjected to really Hellish lives…they were literally worked to death. So along comes a guy named Moses. He was in a prophecy kind of like Alice and I are. The Pharoah—the leader—finds out about it and orders all the baby boys killed. To save his life, his mama puts him in a basket and sends it down the river. Of all people, the royal family find him and adopt him. They don't know who he really is. So Moses grows up and he knows something's wrong. God eventually tracks him down and tells him who he really is. He tells him about leading his people out of Egypt. When Pharoah refuses to let them go, a bunch of really serious curses come down on the Egyptians until he agrees to do it. Then, there's this big chase scene where he changes his mind and decides he wants all his slaves back. They escape into the desert and that's when things get heavy again."

Aurora paused for a moment, thinking.

"At first, they're hopeful. Okay, they got out of Egypt and they're literally no longer chained. But then things get a little hard. It's hot…it's dry…they're hungry, thirsty, tired. They start complaining. They start deciding maybe they're not so much better off and they want to go back because they knew what would happen to them in Egypt. Moses gets a little irate at them. God Himself gets irritated. He's thinking 'I got them out of Egypt, don't they trust me by now?' So they end up wandering Egypt for forty years as a consequence of their lack of faith."

The breeze had stopped and the night was still.

"Things are scary right now," she commented, "and I'm doing my best to believe we'll come out of the desert eventually…but it's a little hard sometimes. Especially with everything that happened yesterday and today. The Oraculum says I'll rule this place, but I have my doubts when Iracebeth keeps ordering people killed."

He didn't know what to say to her. She was obviously very stressed, but he wasn't well versed in comforting people.

"And Tarrant and Mally…I don't want them to die. They're only doing what the prophecy says."

That statement was made with the utmost conviction. He had never felt such a sharp pang of guilt as he did in that moment. In a very indirect way, she was asking him to help them.

"I know…" he said miserably.

The pressure built for several more seconds. Finally, she blurted it out: "Can't you do something? Like smuggle them out of here? You have enough pull over these guys!"

"I do," he answered, "but someone will eventually see it and tell Iracebeth. Then we're all in trouble."

"There _has_ to be a way," she insisted.

"Yes…let me know when you figure that out."

She could hear the irritation in his voice. How could such a strong, powerful man be so weak? How could Iracebeth have him this scared of being killed?

"I will."

She left him there. He had the very distinct feeling that she wouldn't talk to him tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 10

Dr. Hathaway was beginning to sweat. He mixed up the third batch of the potion and hoped that it wasn't as volatile as the other two. Stayne wandered in just as he stared into the cauldron with shock. The liquid inside was glowing green.

"What on earth is that?" Stayne asked in disgust.

"It's something that Iracebeth wanted me to work on," Hathaway responded, "she wants to make a telepathy potion…if I get the ingredients right, then whoever drinks it will be able to send and receive thoughts from others…almost be able to break into another person's mind. It would create a sort of pack mentality. Unfortunately, most of the cards seem immune to its effects since they don't have the same kind of brains we have."

Stayne could hear between the lines. Iracebeth wanted it to be tested on a human subject.

"I'm not exactly sure who to test it on," Hathaway continued softly, "I can't ethically force anyone to take it. Anything that affects the brain could have absolutely terrible complications should something go wrong."

Stayne himself was used to being between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't come up with any easy answers, either.

"HATHAWAY! Is my potion ready yet?" Iracebeth shouted, storming through the doors.

"Uh…yes and no."

"Well, which is it?" she demanded.

"It's finished, but I'm still not sure I got the right ingredients."

Iracebeth shrugged, watching him hastily ladle the contents into the mug.

"We shall see."

She marched down the hall with it. Stayne and Hathaway had no choice but to follow, to watch the aftermath unfold. It was like watching a bad car wreck—they just couldn't look away.

Aurora was the first unfortunate person that they crossed paths with. Iracebeth thrust the mug into Aurora's hands. Understandably, Aurora looked at Iracebeth like she'd lost her mind.

"Drink it," Iracebeth demanded, "it's to cure you of your condition."

Aurora glanced at Hathaway and Stayne. Stayne's face betrayed nothing, but Hathaway looked decidedly nervous. Thinking that it might be some sort of healing thing, she downed it without anymore hesitation. The stuff tasted absolutely awful. The mug slipped out of Aurora's hand and shattered on the stone floor. Aurora gasped for air and clutched at her throat and her chest—it was burning! She felt as if she'd swallowed acid and fire mixed together. They plunged into her stomach and she dropped to the floor. Her insides felt as if they were bursting into flames. The last thing she saw clearly was Stayne's heart-shaped eye patch before her vision blurred and darkened.

"How will we know if it takes effect?" Iracebeth demanded.

"I'm not sure," Hathaway admitted grimly. He was pale and sweaty now—Stayne couldn't blame him. Hathaway had a fondness for the girl and would carry the guilt forever if he'd killed her.

Froth emerged from Aurora's mouth and an alarmingly wet sound exited from her lungs. Her face paled and then flushed dark red. She began to jerk and shake all over as if suffering a seizure.

A feeling that Stayne had thought himself incapable of feeling emerged with alarming intensity. He was familiar with pity, even sympathy. But the absolute fury at Iracebeth was mixed with something else: fear for Aurora's life.

"What's the matter with her?" Iracebeth asked, annoyed.

"She appears to be having a seizure," Hathaway remarked uneasily. He fought his urge to go tearing from the room.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. Aurora's body went limp. When she tried to open her eyes, her gaze was unfocused and glazed over. Her mouth was slack and a string of saliva escaped from one corner. For one frightful moment, they all thought she was dead. A weak cough exited her lungs and they knew she was not.

"Another failure," Iracebeth spat, "I should have you thrown in the dungeon for this, Doctor! You're fortunate that no one else is educated enough to take the job!"

She stomped off, muttering "idiots!"

It was only after she was gone that Hathaway allowed his fear and guilt to show through. He was shaking like an old man as he knelt over Aurora and tried to get her to show some signs of life. Eventually, her eyes tracked his worried face, but they threatened to close. It was as though focusing on him was taking every ounce of strength that she still had.

"Ta—take her upstairs to her r-room," he stuttered to Stayne, "I-I'll be up in a m-moment. I d-don't think the others should s-see her l-like this."

Without a word, Stayne gathered her up. He wondered how she seemed so much more slack in his arms now than when she'd been unconscious. He wished she'd do something to resist him carrying her—anything. It was unnerving to hold her and have her be so limp.

He was getting ready to put her on her bed when she threw up violently. He somehow managed to dodge the fountain of vomit, though he never knew how. It was as if something had exploded in Aurora's stomach. Three or four bad waves later, she had nothing left to bring up. The pity came with a sharp, acute pain and stayed there. He eased her down on the bed and hoped she wouldn't be sick again.

"Poor girl," Martha sighed. She'd seen the whole thing and began to clean up Aurora's mess without the slightest trace of irritation.

Much to his horror and relief alike, Aurora started to cry. Though he was glad she was showing some sign of life, this unnerved him in many different ways.

"Hold her," Martha demanded.

He sat down on the bed beside her and moved to slide his arms around her. When his arm grazed her back, however, she screamed and pulled away from him. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was breathing rapidly as though in a great deal of pain. Throwing all sense of propriety out the window, he tugged the laces on the back of her dress loose and peeled back the fabric. What he saw made him gasp.

It was as though she had some sort of rash on her back. A closer look revealed not just swollen and red skin, but darker areas patterned out so precisely that an artist might have drawn them.

"It looks like feathers!" Martha exclaimed in horror.

Even as they watched, veins of red began to draw themselves down the center of the feather patterns. The skin darkened until it turned black. With a sickening _pop_, the feather patterns freed themselves. They were no longer smooth flesh, but glossy black feathers.

Aurora seemed oblivious to everything else. She sobbed in pain and seemed unable to form any words. Tears spilled out of her squeezed-shut eyes. Stayne was unsure of what to do; he was afraid that even the gentlest touch would make her scream that horrible scream again. Cautiously, his fingertips grazed her arm. That didn't seem to make her any worse. Very, very carefully, he eased her onto her stomach until she was laying across his lap. Awkwardly, he stroked her hair and wished he could make it go away.

With an earsplitting _crack_, the feathers became full-fledged wings. They unrolled like flags and spread out until they reached their full span. Aurora's crying became silent as the pain seemed to subside.

"I'm back—oh my…"

Stayne shot him a hard look.

"What in the Hell did you put in that stuff?" he demanded in a cold voice.

"Well, one of the ingredients was a Jub-Jub feather," Hathaway choked out nervously. Martha put herself between Stayne and Hathaway (though Stayne couldn't have moved without shoving Aurora out of his lap).

"Enough! This is no time to point fingers! Just make her better!"

Aurora had finally relaxed and he didn't want to make her move. She had to sit up to drink the pain potion, however, or she'd choke. He eased her back up as carefully as he could and held the cup for her. A little of it spilled down her chin, but no one thought anything of it. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and sagged against his shoulder.

"She'll go to sleep," Hathaway said, "I haven't the slightest idea of what to do about the wings…we don't even know how deeply her brain has been affected. We should probably take turns watching her overnight just to be sure she doesn't…"

He trailed off.

"Should we try to put her to bed?"

Martha shook her head.

"She's comfortable where she's at…poor thing. Stayne, do you think you can take the first watch?"

He looked down at Aurora. Her features were beginning to smooth out. Her tears were drying. Her breath was slowing down. He was almost certain he could feel her heartbeat evening out as well.

"I will stay as long as I can," he said.

"In other words, until Iracebeth yells at you," Martha helpfully translated.

"Yes."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No."

The two of them left the room and Martha blew out the candle.

Stayne felt Aurora shift, trying to get into a more comfortable position. He reclined more until he was laying down rather than sitting up against the headboard. She stopped moving and was still.

He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but the guilt at having done nothing was just as bad. He couldn't very well blame Dr. Hathaway, for the man was between a rock and a hard place. Iracebeth would get what she wanted regardless of how it came about. It would not matter whose expense it came at.

He closed his eye. One arm was laying over Aurora's ribs; he was a light enough sleeper during times of emergency that he'd feel it if she stopped breathing. The last few days had been Hell and he hadn't slept well. Drowsiness came more easily in the dark.

_He looked at himself in the mirror. He was no longer himself, no longer male. He saw soft feminine curves underneath a poorly fitting uniform that was too tight across the chest and hips. The raven curls came to the tops of his shoulders. His eyes held that haunted look he'd become so well acquainted with over the years. _

_ "I could have dated…finished high school…gone to college…had a degree by now…" his now feminine voice whispered darkly._

_ "But you didn't. You didn't do any of those things," the man behind the desk said sourly, "because your fantasy world was more important to you. Because you have multiple personalities, one that speaks in a British accent. Because you refuse to talk at all. You're not fit for the real world. This is the best you could ever hope for, so get used to it."_

_ "I won't," she said firmly, "nobody ever loved me but God. I refuse to hate myself for something that I am."_

_ He leaned over the desk so far that she could smell his breath, reeking of cigars._

_ "There is no God. Don't you think if there was that He'd have healed your twisted mind by now?"_

Aurora stirred, but made no noise. Stayne rose rapidly from the depths of unconsciousness and mentally tried to shake off the dream. He looked at Aurora as if she would suddenly sprout fangs and claws and mangle him.

She didn't.

_She…I…what just happened?_


	11. Chapter 11

The morning dawned cruel and sunny. Tarrant was roused from his fitful sleep by a couple of unsympathetic guards. Mally swore she wasn't crying, but Tarrant knew better just because her voice broke. He had always admired Mally; she had a great deal of courage for such a small mouse. She never once let anyone convince her that a small creature could not accomplish big things.

Stayne was in a dark mood. Though he wasn't fond of Tarrant in the slightest, he didn't necessarily want to kill him. There were quite a few things about Tarrant that he didn't know. Why had he disliked the strange man so much, anyway? Was it because the rapid change in voice or the fact that his eyes changed colors with his mood made Stayne uneasy? Was it because Tarrant made his job much harder than it already was? Was it because Tarrant had a way of speaking the truth that got under his skin so deeply? As always, the mask settled firmly into place and his expression was one of pure indifference. It made him sick, however, to see Tarrant's eyes shine a bright, brilliant blue of sadness and then turn rapidly to the fiery hot orange. Refusing to break his gaze, Stayne removed one of his gloves. When the glove hit the ground, the executioner's axe would fall.

The crowd didn't want to watch, but Iracebeth had always forced everyone to attend, even children. Though death was just another part of life, he felt that it was cruel and unnecessary. He wondered if his child and lover had been taken from him to avoid them witnessing such cruelties.

And then, he spotted Aurora. As always, Aurora's complexion was milky pale in the golden morning sunlight. The rest of her face was as hard as stone, but her eyes betrayed her. There was so much sadness, so much helplessness. One hand stretched outward as if she wanted to help Tarrant and couldn't quite reach. A sharp pain shot through Stayne's stomach and struck his soul like a barb. He didn't like that expression…he wished she would glare at him, strike him, shout at him, anything but look like that.

He drew in a breath through his nostrils so that the extra oxygen would be silently filling his lungs. It was to steady him; until he'd met Aurora, he'd been able to block out the guilt in favor of survival instincts. But now, it was as if a crack had formed in the dam that held back his emotions. Guilt was steadily pouring in and it hurt.

He dropped the glove. The axe swung and a sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh echoed through the courtyard. The crowd cheered, but it was very half-hearted. He could hear the truth: they were sorry for Tarrant. He would end up as nothing more than another head bobbing in the moat and his body would be fed to the Jub-Jub bird in the tower.

Aurora looked as if she would throw up.

Then, something very strange happened. The Hatter's head vanished and the hat rose into the air. Everyone watched it in awe and some nervousness. The Cheshire cat appeared, his wide grin mocking the others. Stayne had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open when Tarrant appeared right beside the queen. Iracebeth was furious.

"Rise up against the Bloody Big Head!" Tarrant yelled, ripping off some of the fake prosthetics of her favorite court members. Aurora's gaze finally locked with Stayne's. For a fraction of a second, he couldn't help but smile. No one saw it but her.

He had to keep up the act, so he and several of the guards raced up the stairs after Tarrant and Mally.

"Release the Jub-Jub bird!" Iracebeth screamed. A couple of the guards did just that. The terrifying shriek sent several of the people scattering below. By the time that Stayne and his guards made it up there, they realized that Tarrant had vanished. The guards began to search the balcony. Iracebeth was too busy throwing a fit to notice what had actually happened.

A black blur caught Stayne's eye and he saw Aurora. She had launched herself off of the balcony. Tarrant and Mally were clinging to her body as she struggled to stay up in the air. Having almost no supporting wind and being weighted down, she was barely moving at all as her wings beat against the still air. Her lack of experience and the fact that human bodies aren't made to fly were also crippling her. By some miracle, she made it to the wall and pitched them over.

"Come with us!" Tarrant yelled, his Scottish brogue thick.

"I want to," Aurora whispered, panting, "but I can't. Not yet. I have things to do here. Tell my sister I'll be around shortly."

The look of surprise graced the Hatter's features only briefly.

Aurora heard a whimpering behind her. There was a dog and her five puppies there. She recognized the dog from Bayard's descriptions. Not waiting on anything else to happen, she grabbed her and hoisted her over the wall.

"Catch!" she told Tarrant, pitching Bayard's wife over the wall. He did. The five puppies rapidly followed. Aurora's wings were screaming in pain, as the new muscles were weak and shaky. Adrenaline alone was what kept her in the air.

"Go!" she gasped. Not waiting around for the guards to realize they'd all escaped, the group took off. Aurora decided she'd find a way to release the Tweedles and the Dodo as well if the chaos held up.

Up on the balcony, Iracebeth sighed as the bird whirled, screamed, and plunged. With a trace of sadness, she watched the terrified people scattering like sheep.

"You're right, Stayne," she lamented, "it is better to be feared than be loved."

He said nothing and tried not to watch Aurora so conspicuously.

The scream of the bird finally penetrated her selective hearing. She ducked behind an ugly statue to avoid attracting its attention, heart hammering.

_I can't hide for forever…it's just a big, stupid bird,_ she thought irritably, _but I can't outfly it. I don't even think I can get down from here._

The screams of the people made her feel sick.

She launched herself off the wall, wings spreading so that she could glide. This was a little easier and she was moving faster. A little boy was inches away from the bird's sharp talons. By some miracle, she snared him away and dropped him in his sobbing mother's arms.

_Thank you, God,_ she prayed silently. The bird screeched and turned towards her. Aurora knew that safety in the castle was only going to be relative; there was no telling how much Iracebeth had seen, or the others.

Had Stayne seen? Would he sell her out to save himself?

It did not matter now. Aurora landed clumsily on the balcony and the bird screeched in protest. It couldn't fit its massive wings there; the rafters weren't high enough. Aurora stared into its big, dark eyes.

_Hungry._

The sharp, intense hunger felt like broken glass in her stomach. The smell of blood made her mouth water. Raw meat, still warm, would stop the pain. The sound of screams was maddening. It wasn't anything personal, just survival….there were too many at once and she just couldn't choose which one!

Stayne watched her curiously. Her eyes had a glazed, faraway look. Her body had gone rigid, her wings spread as if she intended to fly again.

_No! I'll go kill an animal if I have to, but I won't eat any of these people!_

Aurora shoved hard at the savage, intense hunger. The raw, basic, powerful instincts warred with her civilized mind. The Jub-Jub bird actually hesitated, beating its massive wings and hovering. The delay was long enough for the survivors to flee to safety.

Stayne approached her quietly, cautiously. Iracebeth's puzzlement was almost comical.

"What's the matter with that bird?" she demanded.

_I don't belong here,_ Aurora thought, _I should be free. Not trapped in a tower with a bag over my beak. Not controlled by metal cards or a woman with giant head…I should head for the woods where they'll never find me._

Dim surprise haunted her mind when she realized that she was no longer standing on the balcony, but hovering above the castle. The hunger was still painfully strong, but a part of her vaguely recognized that if she allowed herself to hunt and eat here that she would be captured again.

_To Hell with this!_

She beat her wings and headed for the woods.

"What's the matter with her!" Iracebeth demanded. She shook Aurora violently.

"Wake up, you stupid girl!"

Suddenly, Aurora snapped out of it. She realized that she was on the balcony again. Slowly, she realized that she hadn't ever left it. What she'd been seeing was the bird's point of view.

She'd been feeling its instincts as well. Shuddering, she was repulsed by her brief craving for blood and meat.

_It was just the bird, not me,_ she reminded herself, _only the bird's instincts…_

Aurora pressed a hand to her forehead, dizzy. She slid to the stone floor, trying to catch her breath.

"What happened to my Jub-Jub bird?" Iracebeth demanded suddenly.

"It flew away, Your Majesty. It appeared to be headed for the woods," Stayne said calmly.

The connection clicked into place. Iracebeth stared down at Aurora, who was very red in the face and sweating as if she'd just completed a hard day's labor.

"You had something to do with that, didn't you?" she demanded angrily.

Aurora's defiant look gave her the answer. She waited for Iracebeth to explode.

But she didn't.

"Well…it appears that Hathaway, that old fool, actually did something right for a change!"

Iracebeth hurried out of the room, obviously plotting something. The card guards were gone. That left Stayne and Aurora on the balcony alone.

"What just happened?" he asked her, dropping to his knees beside her.

"I…I don't know," she panted, "I was here and then I wasn't…it was like I was seeing what she was seeing…she was starving…the noise and the chaos made her crazy…she didn't know what to do. I told her to leave while she could…but it was like telling myself…I can't really explain it…"

He tried to understand.

"You…joined…with the bird…" he thought out loud.

"Sort of…it was like there wasn't me and there wasn't her…we were together. Our minds were stuck together, like they were one mind," Aurora said uneasily, "that was so scary…"

His expression was grim.

"What?" Aurora asked.

"Iracebeth will, no doubt, want to use that for something," he said darkly, "I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted you to use that control in battle."

Aurora's expression was one of mortification.

"No! I won't!" she exclaimed, voice high pitched with horror.

"I know," he sighed, "your convictions are too strong. Your faith is too strong. It would ruin you."

Tears filled Aurora's eyes. The thought of trying to deliberately kill someone was overwhelmingly sickening. In her heart, however, she knew that anyone was capable of murder if they were put in bad enough circumstances.

Thankfully, her tears only lasted for a moment. He was grateful for that; he didn't think he could handle seeing her cry the way she had when her wings had come in. Sliding one hand under her chin, he guided her face up so that she was looking at him.

"For being Iracebeth's sister, you're so different," he remarked, "your only fault is that you care too much."

A watery post-cry smile graced her features. She knew she must have looked like a wreck; her face was red and blotchy, her nose was running, and her eyes were red and scratchy.

"I want you to go to Marmoreal," he told her, "and get as far away from here as you can. Get away from the death and the destruction….spend some time with Mirana and the others. As many absolute lunatics as she keeps company with, they're completely harmless and they treat strangers well. You'll be safe there."

He noticed that she was leaning into his touch. Her cheek was warm and sticky against his bare palm. His gloves had come up missing at some point during the chaos, but he didn't care at the moment.

"But what about you?" she asked, voice slowly beginning to steady.

_What about me? No one's really asked that before…_

"I'm sure I'll manage."

Her dark eyes seemed to bore into him. There was a visible charge in the air, a tangible ripple of energy that extruded out from her. It seemed to surround him like a second skin. He felt her presence at the very edge of his thoughts, but it stayed all around the outside. He could sense something there…

He let his own defenses back down just the slightest bit where only her feelings would come through. He could sense fear, not for herself, but for him. She was worried about him. The obviousness of physical health was there, but there was fear for his heart as well. She was afraid he'd be trapped here indefinitely, both in body and spirit.

He eased the wall down further. He imagined it as being one less row of bricks high. Another feeling came through. She wanted him to go with her. She wanted to know that he was safe, to see it tangibly that he was safe. She wanted some sort of proof.

Her concern was very touching. No one, save Dr. Hathaway, seemed to truly give a damn about him. Iracebeth and the other ladies around here wanted him for his power, for what they could gain from his physical strength and his cool, calculating mind. She wanted him for entirely different reasons.

One more row of bricks was banished from his mental wall. A memory came through, playing like a movie in the back of his mind. From Aurora's point of view, it was the night she'd taken Dr. Hathaway's experimental potion. It was when she'd woken up, disoriented and frightened from her latest nightmare. Still half asleep, he'd assured her that it was only a dream and that she was never going back to the hospital again. The small moment of comfort had been of enormous impact. He'd seen her in one of her weakest moments and he'd done what he could to assure her that she was shielded until she grew strong again. He'd dropped the tough soldier act and allowed a rarely shown compassion to show through.

It was making him the slightest bit uneasy. Aurora felt his wall build back up rapidly as he closed her out of his mind. She wasn't offended in the least; she knew she'd seen the edge of something he never showed anyone. The soft, pale side of his heart had been hidden in darkness because it was vulnerable and he couldn't afford it being hurt.

Though his mind was safely closed off, he could still feel her on the outside of it. She was slowly retreating away.

All this had happened in only a few seconds and without a word exchanged between either one of them. Aurora was only vaguely aware that the physical space between them had lessened considerably. His breath caressed her face and her pulse began to race. Her eyes slid closed and blocked the rest of the world out.

The contact, though it was now anticipated, still came as a shock. His kiss was cautious, seeking an invitation from her. Unlike their last encounter, they were both completely sober and scared. She melted, warm and soft like a pastry just pulled out of the oven. He was so careful…it was as though he expected her to crumble if he got too rough. Oddly enough, Aurora felt less fragile during that moment than she ever had.

A noise ended the moment abruptly. They both jerked apart to see the disgraced Lady Big Ears standing there. Malicious pleasure and hatred filled her face. Stayne noticed that she still wore the one prosthetic ear that Tarrant hadn't ripped off.

"She may hate me now, but she'll hate you more!" she said, smirking.

Aurora's dark eyes blazed with fury.

"Don't!" Stayne hissed, knowing full well what she was about to do.

Too late.

The ripple of energy extended out from Aurora and it was in the feeling of a hard, sharp tug. Lady Big Ears clamped both hands over the sides of her head as if to try and block it out, but it was of no use.

_You say a word about this to anyone and I swear, as God as my witness, you will regret it!_

Lady Big Ears was screaming in pain now and begging Aurora to stop, but Aurora seemed to only gain strength. The hot fury was replaced by absolute coldness. Aurora's laugh was strange and scary—Stayne had never seen her look or sound like that. It actually scared him. Though the strange assault didn't touch him, he could sense it coming in waves. The temperature around them seemed to drop rapidly. It was like feeling the wind from an approaching storm.

"Please…" Lady Big Ears whimpered, "…I beg you….stop! It hurts!"

Her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you threatened me, you bloody bitch!"

The hard, sharp, crisp accent made Stayne's blood run cold. It was the sound equivalent to ice. Abruptly, Aurora ended the attack and the sobbing woman ran away like a frightened child.


	12. Chapter 12

Iracebeth was oddly quiet that night. The servants in the castles whispered, the courtiers whispered, and she knew it was all about her and that none of it was good. Her depression made her blue-shadowed eyes seem even heavier.

"All the rioters have been arrested, Your Majesty, and everyone else has been ordered to go back to their homes. You have nothing to fear," Stayne told her. He was startled when she looked up at him—crystalline tears were running down her cheeks.

"But I do, Ilosovic…" she choked, "it is only a matter of time before they find a away if they despise me enough…my tiny-headed sister has the Vorpal Sword and Alice and I fear that our time is running out!"

Ordinarily, Stayne would have gone to her, comforted her, but Aurora's presence made it seem wrong. Though he was certain she'd forgive him, he refrained.

"The only two people I can trust in the world are here in this room," Iracebeth lamented, "you and my mute artist with her mutant wings! Everyone else is just waiting to get me!"

The look that passed between Stayne and Aurora went totally unnoticed. It was ironic that the two people that were the most dangerous were right here in this room. All the servants and courtiers had been ordered out earlier. It would be fairly easy…

No. Aurora shook her head. Stayne nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so deep in thought that he had allowed his thoughts to be exposed to her. It unnerved him.

_There is too much blood on your hands as it is. Leave her be, Ilosovic._

Her voice was, once again, in that thick accent she used when she was upset. But she wasn't angry with him…he would have felt it. She seemed sad, regretful almost. She didn't want Stayne to suffer more than he had.

_Life is like that sometimes,_ she thought at Iracebeth, _there is a season for everything. A season to be sick, to be healthy…a season to labor and a season to rest…a season to rule and a season to serve…maybe if you stopped trying to make things go the way you want and just let time take its course, you would be happier._

"Who said that?" Iracebeth demanded.

_I did._

Stayne did not suppress his look of surprise. He could hear her voice in his head just as clearly as if she'd been speaking out loud. Iracebeth stared at her.

"You can talk?"

_I think the word for it is "thought-transference". _

She stomped over to Aurora and stared at her hard as if trying to figure out a puzzle.

"It worked…it actually worked! You can control them with your mind! And you can speak! Perhaps all isn't lost after all!"

She whisked out of the room yelling for something.

_Don't look at me like that,_ Aurora scolded Stayne.

"Do you realize what you've just done?" he asked her, "Now she'll never want to let you go. You'll be nothing but a tool to her!"

_She can't make me do anything,_ Aurora told him,_ she only believes that she can. There's no threat on earth great enough to make me fear her._

Unsure of whether or not Iracebeth was coming back, he decided to try and communicate with Aurora privately since Aurora could only make her thoughts known to the people she wanted.

_I wish I felt that way…I'd have stopped this a long time ago,_ he said.

_Here's a riddle for you: why do humans have faces on the front of their bodies instead of the back?_ Aurora asked.

"That's just the way we are," he responded.

_It's so that we can see where we're going rather than where we've been. Otherwise, they'd be on the back of our heads._

She had a way of making him see things differently.

_Did your God tell you that?_ he asked bitterly.

_Not exactly…there was a story about a woman escaping a city that was being destroyed and God told her not to look back. She looked back and she turned into a pillar of salt. It was to remind the rest of us not to look back when he wants us to go forward. Sometimes we have to be stripped of everything we have to appreciate what we're going to get._

"He must be a wonderful God if He made you," Stayne whispered. Her cheeks colored rosily and she turned her head. His hand reached out and turned it back. For the first time that he'd seen, she didn't look half-dead. The color that flushed on her cheeks also flushed her lips until they were ruby-colored. His kiss was very light this time, just light enough to taste the new warmth there.

Then, all Hell broke loose.

"Stayne! Arrest that girl and have her executed at once!" Iracebeth snarled.

He stared.

"Why?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Because I found _this._ How could you _not_ tell me? I'm beginning to question _your_ motives as well!"

Stayne's gut felt as though it was eroded by acid. His blood turned to ice and the blood drained from his face when he saw the Oraculum in the queen's hand.

"Your Majesty, she doesn't know! She doesn't know about anything! The only person that would have told her never had any contact with her!"

His voice sounded urgent and the pitch began to increase. Aurora felt the cold wave of fear that ran through him.

"I don't care if she knows! I can't take that risk! Do it now!"

He hesitated a tiny fraction of a second before pulling Aurora out of the chair and cuffing her hands behind her back. The color had drained out of Aurora's face again, leaving her as pale as ever.

_What's going on? Why am I being arrested?_ Her thought voice was high and sharp. It would have hurt Stayne's ears if she'd spoken it aloud.

"Because you were _born!_" Iracebeth said venomously as Stayne steered her out of the room. She squirmed and put up a convincing enough fight that he nearly lost his grip on her. Deciding to handle her roughly enough to convince Iracebeth that he really would take her to the dungeons, he tossed her over his shoulder again and pinned her legs down. Her arms were wrapped backwards around her wings, so she couldn't fly. Iracebeth seemed pleased enough by this. Stayne carried her down the hallway and towards the dungeons.

An odd flutter in his chest made him feel nauseated. It was then that he realized he was feeling the echoes of a second heartbeat: Aurora's. He hadn't known that fear could be so strong, especially from her. It came off of her in sickening waves.

Instead of taking her to the dungeons, he detoured to the stable once they were safely away from Iracebeth or any other prying eyes. He put her down carefully and removed the cuffs. With a whistle, his talking horse had emerged from his stall.

"Take her to Marmoreal to the White Queen and do _not_ stop until you get there," Stayne ordered the stallion, "and speak to no one on your way. Your needs will be taken care of once you arrive."

The horse twitched his ear questioningly, but he didn't protest.

"What about you?" Aurora asked, obviously very upset. The faintest traces of a smile ghosted his face.

"I'll manage," he told her, "but only if I know you're safe."

Unable to speak the words he so desperately wanted to say to her, he allowed her complete access to his thoughts only for a brief second. Tears glistened in her dark eyes. With any luck, he could keep her from spilling more.

He held her in his arms for a few more seconds, kissed her deeply, then sat her on the horse's back. They had so little time that the horse had no saddle or reins. He pitied both of them; it was going to be a rough ride, but his horse knew the way. He walked with them to the gate. Aurora looked back at him as the horse began to gallop away. He watched them vanish into the night.

The horse galloped for what seemed like several miles. He slowed to a trot when he began to sweat and breathe hard. Aurora awkwardly shifted and tried not to pull on his mane.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break?" she asked him, unused to the idea that animals could talk.

"No. My master said not to stop," he answered, "I will not disappoint him."

"All right," Aurora said reluctantly.

"If I allow anything to happen to his mate, he will never forgive me," the stallion remarked.

"Mate?" Aurora asked, holding on tighter to keep herself from being jolted off as they covered more treacherous ground.

"He did that thing that humans do…the same as when we touch noses," the horse said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aurora felt warm on the inside.

"He wouldn't have done it if he didn't care so much for you. I've only ever seen him do it to you. He's risking his neck to keep Iracebeth from hurting you."

"I wanted him to come with us," she lamented guiltily.

"You're doing the right thing by doing what he asks," the stallion informed her, "he won't get distracted by worrying about you this way. He'll be able to concentrate in battle."

It took them almost three hours to reach Marmoreal. The stallion told her a little about Stayne's previous life and their moments together. Stayne had acquired him when he was still a weanling foal. As the horse had grown into a young colt, Stayne had trained and cared for the horse himself. No matter how badly things had gone, they had always found comfort in each other. There was a special bond that humans and animals would always have…Aurora listened with quiet fascination. The stallion had known Stayne when he'd still had use of both eyes and had comforted Stayne when he'd been injured and blackmailed.

"Can you imagine it for me?" Aurora asked.

"Why?"

"I want to see it for myself."

An image popped into her head of a much younger Stayne. Aurora gasped…it wasn't that he looked terribly different from what he was now, it was the joy, hope, and curiosity that was in his expression. Time and pain had etched themselves into his features.

"How old was he then?"

"Twenty-five. That was ten years ago when he finished his training as a knight."

Aurora did some mental math. He'd told her that Iracebeth had killed her husband at least ten years ago…that put him at about thirty-five. She was only twenty-three; it was a big difference. Sensing her reluctance, the horse spoke again:

"Twelve human years isn't so many…it's not like you're a child."

"I've always been treated like one," Aurora muttered.

"But not by him."

"No, not by him," she agreed.

"There's the castle," the stallion informed her, "it shouldn't take much longer."

She spotted a tiny white shape that rapidly began to grow. For the first time in ages, she could breathe easily. As they were admitted into the gate, she prayed that God would watch over Ilosovic Stayne.


	13. Chapter 13

Though the journey was, thankfully, uneventful, Aurora was feeling very shaken by the time they reached the castle. She had withdrawn back into herself and stopped talking. Though she continued to communicate with Stayne's stallion in her mind, her throat was feeling dry. She hadn't talked this much in a stretch in a very long time.

The gates opened and they were admitted in. Though the white castle was bright and cheerful, it unnerved Aurora to go in. The woman whom Stayne had described as her sister was as white as a ghost; her black lips, black nails, and dark eyes stood out sharply against her whiteness. She moved with her hands constantly up in the air; Aurora somehow doubted that she was entirely solid.

"We've been expecting you," Mirana told her.

Aurora didn't answer. She seemed to be looking numbly through her sister rather than at her. Mirana didn't seem offended by this behavior and merely guided the horse towards the front door. She and Tarrant helped Aurora get down and one of her servants escorted the horse to the stable.

"You must be tired. I'll take you to your room and we can talk in the morning."

Aurora nodded gratefully. She tried to smile, but it was as if her energy was far too spent to even do that. She vaguely noticed that Alice was there, too.

"You can have this room next to Alice's. It has a wonderful view of the sunrise."

Aurora collapsed onto the bed. She remembered that she had the Oraculum and handed it to Mirana before yanking the covers over her head to block out the light. Getting the hint, everyone left and Mirana closed the door.

Everything was happening too fast. Over at Iracebeth's castle, things had been tenuous at best and treacherous at worst. There, she lamented, she'd had Ilosovic Stayne. Though he intimidated her at times, he'd protected her where it counted. But now…now, she was surrounded by strangers. She wished with all her heart that he had just taken a chance and come with her. She'd taken plenty of chances for him.

Hadn't she?  
Her mind was making her more tired than she already was. She was sore from being jolted around on his horse's back. Though she'd tried to learn the stallion's name, she couldn't yet pronounce it correctly. He hadn't told her what Stayne's human name was for him. She was tired from stress.

_Out of Egypt and into the desert…_

Her eyes slid closed and she willed herself not to cry. It was an obnoxious habit of hers to cry when she got too tired or sick and she hated it. Merciful, restful blackness swallowed her up. She embraced it and knew that there would be no pain or suffering here.

…..

Stayne was out in the garden when Iracebeth finally found him. He almost jumped out of his skin when she approached him—he was used to her piercing yells announcing her presence. Much to his surprise, there was no one with her. He was sure that her mutant courtiers couldn't be far away.

"There you are," she said quietly, "I've been searching all over for you."

He didn't even look in her direction.

"What's the matter with you? I haven't seen you all evening," she remarked.

He didn't lie, but he didn't want to tell the truth, either.

"There has been a great deal on my mind, Your Majesty."

"I would imagine," she said sourly, "that my sister would be a great deal of your great deal, wouldn't it?"

He stared at her and she glared at him.

"Don't look so surprised! I've seen the way you look at her! The others have told me all about it!"

So…it was out. He wondered which ones specifically had sang like canaries and which ones were under death threat.

"I did what you wanted," he said quietly, dangerously, "now, if you wouldn't mind, I want to be alone."

Iracebeth stepped around in front of him.

"Listen to you! You and I…we were so close, so inseparable! Look what happened! She was here a matter of days and she's caused complete and utter chaos! We had to do it, Stayne! We had no choice!"

"_I_ had no choice, Your Majesty," he corrected her, "you've had plenty of them and you always want the most violent, bloodiest, most self-gratifying one."

She drew in a sharp breath. What he heard next were her selfish tears clogging up her airway.

"I did it because I love you! I couldn't let her come between us!"

Normally, he'd have done everything in his power to pacify her, but he suddenly found himself at his limits. The spark was enough to take hold and grow.

"You love yourself, Iracebeth. You always have and you always will. You didn't know love when you had it. You'll never change. Aurora is gone and she can't change who she is, but she did the best she could with what time she had. You, on the other hand, are cursed to stay exactly as you are. Your body may age, but your mind is still that of a child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

He stalked off, leaving Iracebeth stunned into silence. As he reached the door, he could hear her begging him to come back, but he didn't.

He was afraid, yes, but an exhilaration he'd never known overtook that fear. It had taken him a decade out of his life, but he'd finally said what he'd been thinking. He wished dearly that Aurora could be around to witness it.

His heart warmed.

She'd be proud of him, or at least relieved. As he locked his room up so that Iracebeth couldn't get in, he thought about what he hadn't said and had come very near to. Three little words would have been his undoing, but who was to say that he hadn't doomed himself already?

He stripped away the armor and bathed quickly. He'd been feeling a little chilled and the hot water warmed him up. He settled into his bed and imagined Aurora lying beside him.

…

Aurora didn't wake until early afternoon. She was puzzled for a moment when she saw her all-white surroundings. Slowly, her mind cleared and she remembered. She noticed a dress laying draped over the back of a chair and a note sitting on the table.

_We are having lunch in the dining room if you wish to join us. Everything you need is in the bathroom if you want to clean up first. _

Mirana. Her script was thin and high, reflecting the regality of her status. The curves had a light and feminine air. Though she had not signed the note, Aurora guessed it was her handwriting. She stripped off the rumpled dress and tossed it over another chair.

_Will I ever like the color red again?_ She wondered.

The tub was set in the floor. It was nice to be in the luxuriously spacious bathroom. She sank into the warm, foamy water. Though there were plenty of bottles, she chose one that smelled like grapes. She wished she could take her time, but her stomach was rumbling mercilessly. She brushed out her wet hair and towel-dried it as much as she could.

The dress was, of course, white. Aurora had some reservations about putting it on; white wasn't really her color. She had an overwhelming tendency to spill things on herself when she wore white. Still, it fit perfectly. She tied the ribbons in the back and slipped her feet into the white satin slippers. The dress was made of a satiny material as well, so she felt sleek and soft all over. It was strange, though…almost like playing dress-up. The skirts swished attractively when she walked and she noticed that it was carefully cut to keep her from looking bottom-heavy. There was a slit in the back to accommodate her wings comfortably.

_I wonder if Stayne would like it…_

She ventured down the stairs. In the past, Aurora had deprived herself of food before if she wanted to avoid people badly enough. For some reason, she couldn't do it now. Her stomach hurt too much. The smell of the food was overwhelming and her mouth started to water.

The atmosphere here was different as well. There had always been a tense, gloomy atmosphere in the dining room at Iracebeth's. Here, people were talking freely and commoners and royalty associated without any discretion. She took the empty chair beside Tarrant. Mirana sat across from her.

"Did you sleep well, sister?"

Aurora nodded. One of the servants sat a plate in front of her. She looked at it in vague surprise; the portions were huge.

"We thought about waking you for breakfast, but decided not to. You didn't even hear me come in."

That was true. Aurora couldn't remember anything after shutting her eyes. She began to devour the food in front of her.

"Now that you're back, the prophecy is nearly complete. It's all up to you and Alice."

The look that Alice had for a moment wasn't lost Aurora. She could tell that Alice still didn't want to fight the Jabberwocky and somewhat resented everyone talk about it. She also noticed Tarrant's hand on Alice's. Mild curiosity permeated her enormous appetite.

_Maybe, maybe not, _Aurora thought, _but I could imagine it working…the way he looks at her is precious._

Deciding to save Alice from having to hear about how this whole strange world depended on her, Aurora swallowed a rather large bite.

"Thank you for the new dress."

Those that had not yet heard her talk looked at her with stunned expressions. Tarrant was the only one who didn't. Rather, he grinned at her as if they'd shared some secret.

"I thought you were mute," Alice remarked.

"And I thought your name was 'Um'," Aurora retorted, "I suppose we were both wrong."

She tapped her spoon on the side of her glass and everyone went quiet for a second.

"I'm only going to say this one time, so listen closely. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a mute, a fool, or any other nasty names that the world gives people that are different. I just don't always know what to say or how to say it, so I don't say anything. Sometimes I don't talk because I think everything's fine. Got it?"

A murmur rippled across the table. Aurora went back to eating though her face was flushed brightly. She hated doing public announcements, but it was better than having to tell the same story over and over again. She took seconds so that she could eat more and talk less. Being around so many people was sucking the energy out of her.

"Come," Mirana told her quietly, "we must get you fitted for your armor."

"Armor?" Aurora asked.

"Well, from what I've seen in the Oraculum, you won't be happy just watching, will you?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

A little while later, the blacksmith had drawn up a sketch of Aurora's armor. The biggest challenge was designing the body armor so that Aurora's wings could fully move, but not create any weak points. He promised that it would be ready on the Frabjous Day and immediately got to work. Aurora couldn't help but smile.

_Now this I know would get his attention…_

It occurred to her that she was thinking about Stayne an awful lot…more than she'd thought of any other human being. It scared her.

_Every good thing I've had to this point has been taken away from me,_ she lamented, _I just hope that I'm not making a mistake by getting so attached to him._


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I rewrote this chapter a bunch of times. I chose not to reenact the battle scene because every rewrite I did of it turned out bland and slow to me. Most of you have seen the movie enough not to need a rewrite of it anyway, right? Anyway, I chose to focus on what happened afterward. Sorry for the slowness on updates, classes are kicking my butt. I will probably write more this summer when my mind isn't going in a thousand directions at once.

Some things did not surprise anyone: Alice killing the Jabberwocky, for instance. Other things, such as Aurora disappearing the night before the battle only to show up with her own army, took them all by complete surprise. The efficiency of her airborne attacks impressed him. She managed to dispatch the Jub-jub bird after a few intense seconds. She managed to put a dent in the playing card soldiers with her army. The pack-mindedness that Iracebeth wanted was working at a serious disadvantage to the red side. Stayne's face betrayed nothing. He couldn't go back; he could only go forward. The Hatter's keen orange stare did not help the grimness on the inside. Aurora saw them fighting, but she could do absolutely nothing about it. She had her hands full at the moment.

When Stayne went down, the Hatter nearly stabbed him straight through the heart. Upon seeing that the Jabberwocky was dead, the Hatter had cast his sword aside in disgust. Everyone dropped their weapons and Mirana sentenced Iracebeth to exile. Aurora appeared at her side. Stayne had the sinking suspicion that something was wrong—she was even whiter than usual and her eyes had a glazed, unfocused look. She seemed unsteady and somewhat incoherent. Blood was trickling down her armor, though he couldn't quite figure out where it was coming from.

"I hope you bear no ill will for me, Your Majesty," Stayne said, a nervous smile on his lips.

Mirana glanced at him coldly. She had known Ilosovic Stayne since childhood and was immune to his attempts to charm her.

"You deserve no mercy whatsoever for what you have done, Ilosovic Stayne."

Aurora tried to say something, but she couldn't think clearly. The words came out garbled and mixed up.

"Not his fault….forced…blackmailed…don't…"

She fell with a mixture of a thud and a clatter. Out of instinct, he rushed forward, but Tarrant barred his way.

"Dinna touch her," he warned.

Stayne knew better than to argue for the time being. Mirana knelt next to her fallen sister.

"She's wounded. We need to get her back to the castle."

Then, her dark eyes locked on Stayne's gray one.

"As for you…Aurora was obviously trying to tell us something, but it will have to wait. For now, you will be in our custody until we get everything sorted out."

The white knights surrounded him instantly.

"Would you prefer to walk or be dragged?" Mirana asked sweetly.

He didn't fight them. There was no point. Besides, he was more concerned about Aurora than himself.

As he walked amongst the white chess pieces, his mind was racing. Iracebeth was being dragged to the Outlands right now. She would never bother him again. Salazen Grum and all the territory that had formerly been ruled by Iracebeth now belonged to Aurora.

But where did that leave him?

He was sure that she loved him…or she thought she did at the time. But what would happen when she woke? What would happen when her new subjects demanded revenge and atonement for what Iracebeth had done? For what he had done? He swallowed hard and tried not to worry. Aurora would be the same person she always had been…right?

Only now she knew. Now, she was in a position to exercise that power. All of her choices had been made for her before. Stayne felt a pang of remorse. Should he have done so? Or should he have hoped she'd choose the right path and let her take the reigns? It was debatable. If they ever salvaged this mess, he vowed that he would listen to her and let her make decisions from now on.

The profuse bleeding was the result of a spear that had pierced her wing. Though the wound was deep, Mirana assured them all that it would heal. She forced a potion down Aurora's throat that would help her blood replenish. Then, she insisted that everyone else leave her to rest.

Stayne couldn't complain; his accommodations were very luxurious considering the circumstances. Tarrant was less than pleased, but he didn't say anything. That annoying little mouse, however, complained enough for both of them. He only wished that they would let him see Aurora.

As the sun was going down on the third day, Aurora was finally strong enough to stay awake for more than a few minutes. Stayne was ushered into the room flanked by two guards.

"You may wait outside," she said to them. They left and closed the door behind them. Stayne thought for a moment that his ears deceived him—he wasn't used to hearing her speak in such an authoritative manner.

Then, he _truly_ looked at her. She wore a black robe with sky-blue trim. Though propped up on pillows, someone had taken the time to brush the tangles out of her hair and it shone in the dim red light. Her pale hands were folded over the hem of the bedspread and her eyes locked on his.

_You look like a queen already…even without the trappings and gowns, there is no mistaking who you are…_

Aurora gestured to the chair beside the bed. For a moment, neither one spoke.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Physically, I'm banged up, but I'll live. The worst of it was a really bad tear in my wing. I won't be able to fly until the skin closes back up and the feathers grow back where they had to pull some of them out to fix it. Other than that, I'm just really bruised."

"And your mind?"

The question threw her off slightly. He saw her features twitch before the mask settled into place.

"As well as can be expected…Everyone says war is Hell anyway, but I've actually seen worse."

He had never felt such a strong desire to hold a woman. He had hoped that Aurora could have been spared all this, but he had known all along that she wouldn't.

"How did you get the Sirens and the Nightmares? Usually they kill anyone that wanders into their woods."

It was one of many questions he'd stored up for when he finally did talk to her.

"Very, very carefully. I can honestly say that they don't like me much, but the one thing I had going for me was that they hated Iracebeth worse. I promised never to send people into their woods and to make it illegal for people to go in there for any reason. If we need anything from them, we have to wait at the edge until they come out to talk to us. That's where the mind-meld comes in handy."

Images flashed through his mind of the golden-skinned women with their dark hair, green eyes, and exotic sinister beauty and the frightening black horses with glowing eyes and fiery manes and tails that they rode in on.

"In fact…they very nearly had me killed until I told them who I was and what I was going to do. It was a rough night. I'm glad I'm not a drinker or a druggie because I'd be plastered right now."

He nodded in understanding. He'd lost track of how much Underlandian wine he'd binged on to chase away the demons that haunted his mind after a war or execution. She took a moment to collect her thoughts: though she was more alert than she had been, the numbing potions that Mirana had brewed for her were still clouding her mind.

"Thank you for speaking on my behalf," he finally said, "they were going to handcuff me to that horrible woman and send us into the Outlands together."

There it was. An uncharacteristic hardness crossed Aurora's face.

"Well, yes, I did," she responded, "but you still have a lot to make up for. People aren't going to just let you off the hook."

Something inside his stomach jumped.

"I see…" he said slowly, surprised at her tone.

"As soon as I was lucid enough, Mirana told me that I am in charge of your punishment."

There it was. This was the thing she had been building up to. He felt slightly nauseated and wondered what happened to the woman who had melted in his arms when he kissed her. This new Aurora scared him somewhat. As his stomach sank, he realized that she had every right to give him Hell. Whether he'd helped her or not, his motivations had been selfish and he hadn't allowed her a say in anything.

Her dark eyes bored into his silver one. Not one to shrink away from a difficult situation, he met her gaze though he was mentally bowing his head and slinking away.

"I need you to understand," she said, a steely edge creeping into her voice, "that as much as I have come to love you, I am first and foremost a Queen. I have to listen to my subjects."

The only give-away that he was now afraid was the tightening of his jaw. Everything else was completely invisible: the ice that now filled his veins, the acid tearing through his stomach, and the way his heart thundered against his ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage.

"The sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner we can both get on with our lives," Aurora continued, "and the sooner you can walk away a free man without always having to be under lock and key for your own protection. I've gotten several suggestions from the others, but I prefer to make up my own mind now that I have the power to do so. Some of the less pleasant options were public execution, various torture methods, banishment with Iracebeth, eternal slavery, eternal imprisonment, and so forth."

Surely she could hear his heart pounding by now…

"But I don't believe in killing or injuring people unless it's in self-defense. Locking you up for forever is a waste of both your life and your time. Slavery…I'm not for that, either. Banishing you would do no good because you're still not being seen as being held accountable. So I decided something else. You're going to atone for some of the things you did and put them back to rights as much as you can. The first thing I want done is for all those people floating in the moat to be exhumed and given a proper burial. Then I want that damn thing filled up for good."

She must have read his thoughts.

"You're not doing it by yourself—it would take you a lifetime alone. All those worthless courtiers that did nothing but mooch off of the poor people's taxes are going to help. I'm stripping them of their titles and their salaries and they're going to live like the peasants they abused. All their money is going to the people that actually need it."

She had chosen well, he mused. Nothing reminded you of your wrongdoings like literally coming face to face with them…he dreaded seeing all those decomposing corpses that he had been to blame for.

"And then?" he asked quietly.

"We're having _fair _hearings for the prisoners and letting all the innocent ones go. I want the whole dungeon cleaned out and all the torture instruments destroyed. I want you to do that all yourself. Then we're having a big bonfire with all the pieces being burned in the public square. During that, I want a public apology to be made."

As he was not much of a public speaker, that last thing seemed to be the hardest task of all. He was sure that Aurora would end up having a riot on her hands.

Her dark eyes bored into his and dared him to challenge her. He saw a lot of her personality facets emerging at once: she was his queen now. She expected him as a queen and as a Christian woman to try to put his wrongs to rights. But there was also the other Aurora, the lover. She wanted to know that he would not try to walk on her or take advantage of her just because she loved him.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He said it very respectfully and there was no hint of grudge or sarcasm in his voice. She was risking a lot for him—the worst of it included assassination attempts if her subjects didn't agree with her. Her life would be on the line for a long time and she would need to be very careful until things settled down. It was evidenced by this willingness to risk herself that she did not love him any less.

"After that…well, who knows…time passes differently here than it does in the Overland. People have short memories."

She didn't say that she hoped they would be together again and that they could be lovers without fear, but he felt the wave of emotions that rippled through her soul. For now, they would have to wait and they were in for a very long wait indeed.


	15. Chapter 16

The stench was overwhelming. Many of the ladies complained, groaned, threw up, passed out, and so forth. The men did not want to show themselves as weak, but they complained that such vile work was beneath them. Unfortunately, what Aurora said was the final word. The playing cards and the Sirens stood guard over them as they worked. Those who were not accustomed to the labor and the outdoors began to redden and burn in the sun. While Aurora was generous enough to supply healing salve for their pasty skin, it was one of the few privileges that she allowed them. Stayne himself couldn't help but notice the oddity of this situation: on the White side, royalty and commoners had worked side by side for centuries. On the Red side, however, it was very much a novel idea.

They loaded casket after casket. The ones that had not decomposed as much were identified and given named headstones. The ones that were further decomposed were identified by more complicated means. A special chemical had been dumped into the water to force all of the corpses to the surface. Once the thousands of unfortunate casualties of Iracebeth's wrath had been removed, the stagnant, foul water was drained out of the moat and they began to fill it in.

This was where the real work began. The Underlandian sun was uncharacteristically hot and he was sweltering inside the armor that he dared not take off. Several of the villagers had tried to attack him already despite Aurora's orders that they leave him alone. Though in much better shape than the pale, fat ex-courtiers, he was still tired and sore at the end of the day. Alice and her friends were frequent visitors to Salazen Grum and he would often see them crossing the drawbridge while he worked. Tarrant seemed to take particular pleasure in seeing him sweating and exhausted.

Stayne rarely saw Aurora anymore unless she was giving work orders for the day. Even then, he only saw her between tasks and each one took multiple days to complete. By the time they had almost gotten the moat filled in, he'd barely seen her at all. Every now and then, he might glance up and see her standing on the bridge to monitor their progress. The fat women's curves had begun to whittle down considerably and their dresses were getting loose around the waist, hips, and thighs. The men lost their spare tires around their middles and began to develop muscle. Gradually, they had stopped their complaining because it did them no good. Many of them were not happy with Aurora's choices in their nutrition—she had dispensed with the rich, royal dishes for her workers. They were well fed, but the meat was plain and the heavy gravies and cream sauces dispensed with. There were more fruits and vegetables and grains incorporated with less of the fattening elements. She gave them only water to drink, saying it was better for them. When they whined and complained about it, one of the servants had revealed that Aurora herself was following the same meal plan.

"I refuse to be a hypocrite," she had said, "and I wouldn't ask you to do something that I wouldn't do myself."

During the few times that he caught a glimpse of Aurora, Stayne longed for more than those few minutes. There were times that she would hold his gaze for a few seconds, but she seemed nearly indifferent to him otherwise. What had happened, he wondered, to the shy, sweet, timid woman that had melted like butter in his arms?

Once the moat was filled in, flowers were planted in the freshly deposited earth. In a few months, no one would even know it was there. Summer showed no signs of letting up; blazing July melted into sultry, still August. Subtle changes had become obvious ones: since Stayne had spent nearly all day outside, he rarely noticed the interior of the castle. Now, he noticed, there was much more light coming in. The animal furniture had been replaced with regular furniture. He began to wonder where all the animals had gone when he noticed more and more children with pets that looked very familiar. More light was coming into the castle as the heavy velvet drapes were replaced with sheer, light ones that quivered with a breath.

That morning at breakfast when the morning light was still new, raw, and red, something happened that no one expected. Aurora herself appeared in the servant's kitchen. It was the first time in weeks that Stayne had gotten a good look at her.

Rather than the elaborate, gaudy gowns that Iracebeth had worn, Aurora was dressed in a simple black dress with white trim. Her black curls cascaded loose around her shoulders—they had grown several inches since she'd come to Underland. She wore a sparkling tiara that Mirana had given her as a gift at her coronation.

"Good morning," she greeted all of them. They stopped eating and looked up. She sipped from her ratty old coffee mug that she'd refused to replace.

"I wanted to congratulate you all on a job well done. I honestly didn't think you'd all ever stop complaining and work together, but you've proven me wrong. I'm glad."

The silence was so intense that it was nearly smothering.

"I may have been tough on you the last few months, but I would also like to think that I am fair as well. This afternoon, we're going to have a memorial service for all of those that Iracebeth had killed. If you would like to come, you're more than welcome to. If not, find something else to do. Catch up on sleep, go visit your friends, whatever. I'm giving you the day off. Tonight, we're having special dinner since Mirana's coming to visit and check up on us and it starts at six. Have a good day."

As soon as Aurora was out of the room, conversation began to crescendo into a wordless hum. He could only hear those talking the nearest to him.

"It's about damn time! I thought we were going to work ourselves to the bone!"

"Ugh…I could have slept in this morning."

"I wouldn't set foot in the service! All those people were beneath me to begin with!"

"She's only doing it to gain favor, you know. She really could care less."

"Fair my rear-end! If she were fair, she'd have let us stay where we were!"

Before he realized what he was doing, Stayne had drawn his sword, moving as quickly as a panther. The table fell silent as they all gaped at him, open-mouthed. The point of the blade gleamed in the blood-red light.

"If she were fair, she'd have either killed or exiled every single one of you," he hissed, "not one of you showed her any kindness when she arrived. You'd better count your blessings that she chose to spare your miserable lives!"

He didn't realize it at the time, but Aurora had heard his outburst and was hiding just beyond the corner.

"You had better choose your words carefully," Stayne continued, "because you could be charged for treason right this minute. Every single one of us is exactly the same now—no money, no titles, no favor. There's no point in acting as though you're better than the others because you aren't. Yes, she's worked us all very hard, but at least she isn't going to kill us on a whim. You don't realize how much better you have it."

Usually, Ilosovic Stayne was a man of action, not of words. It was the most anyone had ever heard him speak in one sitting. Though they weren't afraid of Aurora, they were most certainly afraid of him!

Deciding not to stay in the company of people he detested, he stalked out of the kitchen only to have one arm snared by Aurora. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat and adrenaline crept into his veins. He wasn't sure why—he supposed it was simply a reflex. Wordlessly, she steered him out of the hallway and outside into the gardens.

"I wanted to thank you for that," she said, "not many people stick up for me. They think I don't hear them, but I do. I just pretend I don't because they would do it worse."

The light had paled to orange now and the tiara she wore cast little sparkles when she moved.

"I didn't know ruling a country would be so hard. Okay…I suspected it, but I really didn't know," Aurora said, "I hate the way people act. They're a bunch of kiss-ups to my face and catty behind my back. I always question whether I'm doing the right thing."

"No one is born knowing how," he told her, "you've done exceptionally well for your first six months. You're still alive, you've gained control without being barbaric, and your kingdom is starting to grow. Look there."

Aurora turned her head to see a very pregnant woman passing by with her husband. The man was carrying a young child on his shoulders.

"Beheading wasn't the only way we lost people," he continued, "many of them were underfed, overworked, and too poor to go to the doctor. We were killing people faster than we could replace them."

Aurora couldn't help but smile. Seeing the loving way the woman's hand rested on her belly, a sharp tug of emotion pulled at her stomach. She shoved it away. There would be a time and a place for that eventually…right now, she was far too busy to hope for a baby of her own. Especially since the chaos hadn't quite died down yet.

Between the medications she'd been on in the Overland and the psychiatrists constantly telling her that she wasn't mentally fit enough to be a mother, she had long ago given up her dreams of being a parent. Since arriving at Underland, the psychotropic medications had long exited her system. She had lost enough weight to be healthy again, her hair was glossy and full, her eyes were bright, and her skin had more color. It didn't seem so far-fetched now.

A little girl ran up to them. Though she seemed wary of Stayne, she was giggling excitedly at Aurora. It seemed that she had escaped from her mother.

"Can I twy on youw cwown?" she asked.

The mother arrived, breathless and panting.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, reaching to pick the girl up.

Aurora's outstretched hand stopped her.

"Don't be."

She carefully took the tiara off so that it wouldn't tangle in her hair and placed it on the little girl's head. It was too big and it tilted to one side. The little girl seemed not to care—she ran around in circles yelling that she was a queen, too.

Stayne couldn't help but chuckle.

"It's a little big yet, but it might be a perfect fit one of these days," Aurora told her, "you might have a better one."

She picked the little girl up and swung her in a circle. The child shrieked with laughter and toppled over in the grass, dizzy.

Grateful that Aurora seemed to like children, the mother smiled, obviously relieved.

"Come on, Lily, we need to get to the market before it gets too hot."

"BYE!" the little girl called, running after her mother.

"That one was pregnant, too," Aurora remarked, "goodness…"

"How can you tell? She's so thin," Stayne objected.

"It's The Look," Aurora informed him, "that smile. She's got a secret. She probably hasn't said anything to anyone yet."

Shrugging, he brushed it off as something that only other women could sense. That woman hadn't looked any different to him.

"I should probably get inside," Aurora said, "I need to get things prepared for the service. Those families need some closure."

And away she went. Knowing she'd been busy, he chased after her.

"Is there something I can help with?"

"Yeah. Go rest."

She disappeared around the corner and was gone.


End file.
